#he's also wearing boots in it which was apparently fashionable at the time

[dailyrickastley]

On the set of "Take Me to Your Heart"

[chernabogs]

A Rainy Wandering

Inc: Reader/Malleus (99% platonic but we had to sneak those subtle feelings in there at the end. Love me some two oblivious clowns) Second person POV Warnings: None WC: 1.8k Summary: Er so that new Malleus card, yeah? (Or: hey your bff scheduled in a 4 hour gargoyle tour, are you coming, orrrr...?) Also s.o to Alexandra with her literal Field Guide to Gargoyles and founding of the Gargoyle Appreciation Society. My hero rn for this hope they are thriving.

The campus is shrouded in grey as the rain falls at a steady rate around you. You grip your umbrella with both hands to combat against the gentle tug of the wind as you stand at the end of your dorms long walkway, shifting from side to side on occasion to look at both ends of the road. Behind you, the orange glow of Ramshackles cozy inside beckons to you, promising an escape from the rain in the form of wool blankets and terrible reality television. You’re half tempted to go back, but you staunchly remind yourself that you had made a promise, and you were not someone to fall back on your word.

That being said, your friend is about five minutes late, but you can forgive him. He’s never been good at keeping track of time. 

You shift on your heels again as you tilt the umbrella back to look at the grey sky. You last all of two seconds before too many raindrops fall on your face and you look back down, blinking the water out of your eye. The motion lets you take note of a pair of boots standing to your right. 

“Oh!” You splutter, moving your umbrella again to look at to whom those boots belong. Malleus stands in a very casual, unassuming manner, his own umbrella in hand and his brow quirked in amusement. “How long have you been standing here for?” 

You know the answer to that already—probably just seconds—but Malleus’ lips curl into a secretive smile as he shrugs a shoulder. “Long enough to observe you taking a makeshift wash.” 

A sour look is what he gets in turn, although yours always lack venom when it comes to him. A quick glance over his form shows you that he’s come prepared for the weather as well. In addition to his umbrella (which is decorated with gargoyles, to your amusement), he wears a black and purple raincoat, gloves, and has tied his hair back in a looped knot you think you've never seen him wear before. Compared to your yellow rubber boots and yellow raincoat, he looks like he stepped out of a high-fashion shoot. 

To serve and observe, apparently, is the agenda for today. You missed that memo. 

“I need to tie a bell to your wrist so I know when you’re coming.” You grumble as he steps back to the road, leaving you to fall in line with him. His warm laughter fills the air as you begin the first few legs of the tour he’s been talking about for ages.

“Now, I do think I recall you saying that once before,” he muses, tapping his fingers against the metal gargoyle at his umbrella's base. “You have yet to follow through.” 

 “I think your students would mob my dorm if I were to try and tie anything to you. Maybe I should just put an alarm on your phone instead—as long as you don’t break it again.” 

Often this would earn you a look of mock hurt, but Malleus seems far too jubilant at the moment to care about the subtle read you’re giving him. He’s smiling away, as happy as can be as he walks by your side. He even has a little bounce in his step. It almost makes you want to laugh at the sight; how can anyone call him intimidating when he’s looking like a child about to get a present? 

“Ah, yes, yes. I have been diligent in keeping my devices in check. Shroud has been of much help in that.” His gaze darts around the campus until he loops his arm with yours and pulls you swiftly to the right. You’re pliant to his guidance, only sighing in response as you let him pull you wherever he sees fit. This is something you’ve come to realize about the nature of your relationship with the prince. Malleus is a chronic wanderer, tending to just go off wherever he wishes, but he’s also mildly codependent. Since you two had firmly established that you are friends—hell, you gave the man a friendsgiving card—everywhere Malleus drifts off to, he takes you like a tether.

“Ah! Our first stop on our tour,” he begins, still brimming with energy. He tries to move his umbrella, only to have it collide with yours in the process. “Actually, before we begin, would you be so kind as to close your umbrella? We can use mine.”

You lean back to look up at your friend incredulously. At well over 6 feet, horns excluded, you doubt that you will remain dry for long should Malleus shield you both with his umbrella. He stares back both unwavering and with expectation in his look. You purse your lips. He raises an eyebrow. You lean back a bit, he replicates the action, his gaze looking you up and down. Daring you.

Oh, girl.

After a second of silent staring with a dash of attitude that the man rarely shows anyone else, you huff a sigh and close your umbrella, scooting closer to him once you do. His expression lights up as you roll your eyes, and he resumes his tangent. 

“Thank you, my dear friend. Now, as I was saying, our first stop on our tour! If you direct your attention upwards you will see what is aptly called a screamer gargoyle. The positioning of its body—with hands behind its head and its mouth agape—is meant to remind those who witness it that torment lay ahead if they fail to fulfill a particular purpose. You may see these on the cathedrals in numerous nations, as they were quite popular to evoke terror in worshippers.”

 You scoot forward to look past the edge of the umbrella at the gargoyle in particular. True to Malleus’ word, the carved figure looks as though it’s screaming in agony, its eyes directed upwards, and its body bent at an angle. You smirk a little. 

“Kind of looks like Ace and Deuce during exams.” 

Malleus hums thoughtfully. “Perhaps that is why they put one on a school ground. To remind students of the torment they will endure should they neglect studying and strike deals for grades instead.”

“So mean,” you chastise, even though you were the one to start this train of thought. The two of you continue your trail along the main road. Malleus keeps your arms firmly linked together as he chatters on, stopping on occasion to point out a particularly significant gargoyle, or a grotesque lined against the wall. You reckon this is the most your friend has talked in a while, considering his need to stop and clear his throat with an apology. 

You also consider that this is probably one of few times that he’s managed to rope someone into a walk with him like this. Out of the joy his joy seems to bring you, you prompt him with several questions as you tour about, doing your best to remember the info dumping you’re being subjected to. A slip up of calling a grotesque a gargoyle by mistake, which earned you a verbal berating in the gentlest of manners, was enough to make you pay closer attention.

As the rain begins to lighten and the sun valiantly fights to break free, the two of you come to a stop in one of the courtyard areas of the main building. You fish out a granola bar from your pocket as Malleus holds the umbrella, offering him half of it before you look around at the building. There aren’t as many gargoyles here as the other areas, save for one impressive dragon carving looming over the courtyard entrance. You gesture to it in silence, your mouth too full of chocolate and granola to speak. Fortunately, Malleus has become more then attuned to your gestures to know what you’re saying—another reward of your friendship. 

“That is one of the older gargoyles present on the campus. Considering that the courtyard we are standing in served as part of the original residence, I would wager that the initial owner of the lands commissioned this.” Malleus taps the base of the umbrella again as he tilts it back to look upwards. A few stray raindrops hit his cheek, making his brow furrow as he inspects the moss-covered structure. He’s looking at the gargoyle, while you’re looking at the expressions he’s pulling. “Most people surmise that the selection of a dragon was done to evoke fear in opponents who may try to take these lands, but I’m of the mindset that it was done to symbolize the wisdom and guardianship the owners held over their subjects. Dragons are, after all, quite wise.”

“So the dragon says.” You reply teasingly as you look at the statue. He’s right to guess that it’s certainly the oldest one you’ve seen. The stone is aged and slightly cracked along the edges. You know that Malleus has a habit of carving statues himself, and you wonder if he’s ever considered trying to repair it. Given his love for all things crumbling and ancient, however, you also wager that the thought of rebuilding something that time has claimed is well against his personal morals. 

“My assessment is free of bias, Prefect.” He counters with a mockingly scolding tone to his voice. You know it to be in jest by the way his eyes remain alight with joy. He really is infectious when he’s in a good mood, dangerously so, and a part of you wishes he could stay this way consistently instead of sliding back to the quiet, brooding form he can be when he’s feeling temperamental. 

You scrunch up the granola wrapper before shoving it in your pocket with a shake of your head. “Oh yes, definitely no projecting going on here.”

“I will leave you out in this rain.” He warns, tilting the umbrella so that you’re out of its cover. You yelp in protest and duck back underneath, practically squishing yourself against him to keep from doing that again. 

“You like me too much to do that!” You argue back as you grip the umbrella handle yourself. He breaks his facade of sternness to laugh as his arm comes around you to rest on your back. The act feels far too natural for the first time he’s ever done it, yet you acquiesce regardless. “Besides, who else will finish this loop with you? Silver is training with Sebek and Lilia is off… well. Doing whatever he pleases.”

Another thoughtful hum vibrates in Malleus’ chest, which you can feel considering the proximity of your bodies in this moment. A sudden awareness strikes you that makes you feel a bit awkward about it all. Out of reflex you nudge his waist with your arm, prompting him to give you some more space.

“I suppose you have me there,” he notes, granting you a half smile as he looks down to your irate expression. He offers you the crook of his arm, and you silently oblige by linking it with yours. He tugs you a bit closer this time around as he beckons to the courtyard exit. “Let us continue, then. I would say we have another hour at least. Oh, I do hope you’re as excited as I am for what’s to come.”

[waitineedaname]

shoes in FMA rated on how comfortable they'd be to fight in

Edward Elric

considering Ed's uhhh very distinct taste in aesthetics, these could be a lot worse. they look relatively comfortable and don't seem like they'd be difficult to move around in. they are platforms though, which I imagine makes things more difficult. I'll be generous and give these a 7/10

Most of the Amestrian military

pretty much everyone in uniform wears the same shoes, so I'm lumping them all together. these are Roy's, if that matters. they look fine. I imagine that because it is part of a military uniform, it's designed to be moved around in and worn for hours on end, so ideally they're relatively comfortable. it doesn't look like there's much traction, but they're usually fighting on flat surfaces so whatever. 8/10

Fu and Lan Fan

these shoes fucking rule. the picture I've included is Lan Fan's, but they wear p much the same shoes. I fucking love these things. they have spikes. Edward Elric fucking wishes. considering this seems to be part of the bodyguard uniform, I'd imagine they're as easy to run around in as the military shoes, if not better since they're expected to be doing martial arts in them. but most importantly, they have spikes. 10/10, no notes.

Ling and Mei

on the topic of doing martial arts, both Ling and Mei wear these.... I'm not sure what they are. flats? slippers? it's unclear. (EDIT: they are apparently Kung Fu shoes!) they seem relatively easy to move around in I guess since they're not very cumbersome and both Ling and Mei rely on being very nimble. they look like they have absolutely no support in the soles though, which is gonna get painful after a certain point. also depending on what fabric they're made of, they could definitely start chafing. I've worn flats. I know that hell. 7/10 for the potential blisters, but at least they're designed specifically for martial arts

Greedling and Bradley

it's hard to get a good shot in this scene because neither of them stop moving, but I swear to god, they're fighting in dress shoes. I cannot stand them. this CANNOT be comfortable. I know Greed prioritizes aesthetics over function so this was probably a compromise between his and Ling's tastes but ohhh my god. he was probably wasting so much of the philosopher's stone just passively healing the million blisters on his feet from running around in these things. there's a chance Bradley is wearing the military uniform shoes but I think he was in more formal dress when he got blown the fuck up, so I don't think so. no wonder he complains about being sore, quit running around in dress shoes you fucking moron. 4/10.

Greed

THESE FUCKING THIIIIIIIINGS. WHY ARE THEY POINTY AT THE END. WHY DOES IT LOOK LIKE SOMEONE HIT HIS FOOT WITH A MALLET AND FLATTENED THEM. he's so dumb. I love him. looking at these things tells me he would probably wear goth cowboy boots if he could, and tbh that would probably look better. 3/10 for Greed's overall silly as hell fashion sense

Lust

okay. the heels make sense considering her whole vibe. however. these are part of her fucking BODY. when she gets incinerated, they grow back. can she even take them off???? I'm scared to ask. I guess if theyre part of her body, she doesn't have to worry about adjusting to balancing in them like you would normally with heels, but oh my god. she can never wear normal shoes. I would also be murderous if I had to wear heels all the time. 4/10.

Father and Izumi

guys. these are sandals. it has been four hundred years and Father is still wearing the same outfit he was wearing in the damn desert. find a new outfit man. Izumi is apparently wearing bathroom slippers (hence the WC) so idk why she's even wearing those out of the house. Father gets 0/10 and Izumi gets 1/10 because she still manages to kick everyone's asses while wearing these, so respect

Envy

PUT YOUR FUCKING TOES AWAY. -10000000/10

[xuterboo]

Good day! Or night? It doesn’t matter, today we will have residents of Hades for analysis

Recently I found a person who posted all the (at that time) characters in full size. Why did I find this so late 🥲

However, let's get started

Some of the kings dress differently from their subordinates, but Levi decided to insert his own dress code. In Hades, strict clothing is accepted. With permission for some accessories, similar to the type of chains the King himself had. On the hand of the King of Envy you can see three sixes located in a circle. Honestly, at first I didn’t understand that this was the number of the devil. I thought it was some kind of symbol with deep meaning. But everything turned out to be simpler

Foraz and Valefor share the same clothing style. Apparently they occupy approximately or the same positions at work. The details that are interesting to me are several things: a noose on the neck, which speaks of devotion (applies to all the demons of Hades), different left boots, differing only in color and material (?) And of course capes with ropes on the sides. I don't think I particularly like Hades as a country, but the fashion there is great 😍

Foraz has distinctive details in his image: a chain on his horns and a tattoo on his cheek. What's also interesting is that he doesn't wear the chain because he's imitating Leviathan. More precisely, not only for this reason. According to Foraz, he just likes the look of the chain. And also his tattoo is his own artifact.

Barbados has a fur belt with his signature rose flower. The same pose is on his earring, and the artifact of this character is also a rose. Oh yes. And attacks too. He really loves roses. He even smells like roses. It seems he even eats them sometimes hahaha

Glasyalabolas, (Damn, I hope I didn't summon some creature while I was writing this) altogether a unique case. Judging by the medals and banners, he is a general, or any military figure. This can be judged by the carriages, a special braided rope with peculiar tassels, black and white ribbon and, in principle, more luxurious clothing. Fighters get paid a lot, especially in high positions.

I want to say that his artifact, the raccoon, does not suit him at all. He's a menacing killing machine. What, the hell, a stuffed raccoon??

The name Glasyalabolas is made into 2 words and one French article "La". As we know, people took many things from hell, and France is the embodiment of Abbados, the land of lust (We can judge this by the names of the demons from there). In that case, my question is, what did you forget in Hades? The vibe from this character suits the place though.

By the way, Hades itself represents the architecture of England, somewhere in the Victorian era. Absolute monarchy and complete submission are very similar to this country

[valend]

Do we know what kind of fashion styles (for their time) did hamburr have? Were they following whatever is trendy or doing their own thing

I love this question sososo much!

Unlike Jefferson, who was described as being unfashionable/old-fashioned, that his clothes were too small and that he wore slippers etc. we don’t have any similar descriptions for either Hamilton or Burr. On the contrary!!!

The most obvious proof of Hamilton being “trendy” is this from Chernow:

“From the time he started out as a young lawyer in postwar New York, Hamilton presented a dashing figure in society. He was trim and stylish, though not showy in dress. His account books reflect a concern with fashion, as shown by periodic visits to a French tailor, and his sartorial elegance is confirmed in portraits. In one painting, he wears a double-breasted coat with brass buttons and gilt-edged lapels, his neck swathed delicately in a ruffled lace jabot. One French historian remarked, “He belonged to the age of manners and silk stockings and handsome shoe-buckles.”He was as fastidious as a courtier in caring for his reddish-brown hair, and his son James recorded his daily ritual with the barber: “I recollect being in my father’s office in New York when he was under the hands of his hair-dress[er] (which was his daily course). His back hair was long. It was plaited, clubbed up, and tied with a black ribbon. His front hair was pomatumed [i.e., pomaded], powdered, and combed up and back from his forehead.”” [Chernow p. 187]

More detailed I remember one particular description of his clothes from Chernow’s biography again:

“When [Hamilton] entered the room, it was apparent from the respectful attention of the company that he was a distinguished individual. He was dressed in a blue coat with bright buttons; the skirts of his coat were unusually long. He wore a white waistcoat, black silk small clothes, white silk stockings. The gentle- man who received him as a guest introduced him to such of the company as were strangers to him. To each he made a formal bow, bending very low, the ceremony of shaking hands not being observed. . . .” [Chernow p. 334]

Hamilton was also really interested in the design of the soldier’s uniform:

“A chronic stickler for etiquette, Hamilton entered into the minutiae of protocol and dress, showing an unrestrained love of military matters. The most fastidious tailor could not have dictated more precise instructions for Washington’s uniform: “A blue coat without lapels, with lining collar and cuffs of buff, yellow buttons and gold epaulettes of double bullion tag with fringe, each having three stars. Collar cuffs and pocket flaps to have full embroidered edges and the button holes of every description to be full embroidered.” For Washington’s hat: “A full cocked hat, with a yellow button gold loop, a black cockade with a gold eagle in the center and a white plume.” For his boots: “Long boots, with stiff tops reaching to the center of the knee pan, the whole of black leather lined above with red morocco so as just to appear.” Hamilton’s descriptions of other uniforms were no less meticulous.” [Chernow p.564]

So it’s pretty obvious that Hamilton cared a lot of someone’s physical appearance therefore I doubt he would dress unfashionably.

Now for Burr I don’t seem to recall anything particular about his dress. Besides the silly rumour of him wearing that one bullet proof silk coat to the duel I don’t really remember anything else.

This is what I could find from a casual search (if I have more time I might look into it a bit more)

“Like Hamilton, the impeccably tailored Burr made an elegant impression, with his lustrous dark eyes, full lips, and boldly arched eyebrows.” [Chernow p. 192]

(no comment on the lustrous dark eyes, full lips and bold arched eyebrows bit, im completely ignoring it)

“According to eighteenth-century caricature, womanish men were fickle and disloyal, while as men of fashion, dandified politicians could be expected to change party affiliation as easily as they changed their clothes. By comparing the Burrites to beaux, dandies, and foppish boys, he associated them with prodigal dissipation and sexual indulgence—the twin vices of luxura and licentia, the antithesis of republican virtue.” [Isenberg p. 276]

I’m assuming since Burrites in general were described as looking like that then I believe it’s pretty fair to assume that same caricatured description goes for the man himself as well

There is also this description of his clothes, but in his defence he was on the run lmao:

“He wore a slouching white hat with a broad brim, sported a long beard and a checkered handkerchief around his neck, and a great, baggy coat tied with a belt. Hanging from the belt was a tin cup and a butcher’s knife. The outfit did not fit the profile of the dapper Burr, known for his stylish dress and genteel manners.” [Isenberg p. 353]

So from that description we’re able to tell that Burr was usually fashionable.

“Two prominent Federalists had loaned Burr $1,000 for new clothes, so that he could be tastefully attired in black silk for the duration of his trials.” [Isenberg p. 362]

I suppose silk would’ve been considered pretty fashionable for the time

Now, I might be misremembering this so if anyone has a source for this please let me know but I think I remember somewhere being mentioned that the way Burr was discovered and arrested in Alabama in 1807 was because his boots were too nice 😭😭😭

I genuinely have no idea if what I’m saying is true but apparently his boots were too trendy and polished and didn’t go along with the rest of his shabby clothes

[peppermintbiotics]

Things we know: Leander

this is mainly a post to summarize (and draw conclusions from) the info we get on leander from the demo (bc he is the one i can make least sense of and i need to change that :’D)

read more for length. tl;dr: we may have to pay more attention to the fogfall and how it relates to leander

let’s get started with a quick overview of the scenes he appears in: - we first get a glimpse at him from the posters advertising him and his services with his silhouette, the name of his group (”bloodhounds”), and the phrase “as above, so below” printed on it

curiously, this phrase is, among other occult connections, associated with the rider-waite depiction of the magician card in tarot that is often interpreted as a conduit between the spiritual and the mundane/the world at large and man himself. given that leander is explicitly referred to as a mage, this feels very much intentional

- we find leander in “the wet wick”, a bar in the entertainment district, filled with people in green cloaks (the bloodhounds) and leander on a table, putting on a magic show for them (not sure if it’s relevant but leander is wearing gilded boots). he conjures up lilies (the magic is described as pale green, so i assume the lilies are the same) and offers them to mc

in this instance, and in general, leander is heavily associated with the color green

an alchemist mc will note that leander doesn’t use incantations or spell circles, implying he wields immense power

- leander then takes mc to the bar counter, deduces it’s their first time in eridia and offers them a drink. mc asks him for help to get to the senobium, the bloodhounds don’t react well to it, and leander takes mc outside, warning them against the senobium and asking to see their curse (after warding against it). mc is hesitant but ends up touching him

if you choose to touch him, leander grins and reassures mc that he is fine. if you hesitate, he grabs your hand, his expression goes blank, and he goes so far as to reach for your throat before catching himself (unclear whether this is just mc’s perception or whether his control really slips there)

an alchemist mc will recognize the ward as an enchantment for protection

- leander confirms that mc’s curse is one of a kind and offers them a room at the bar (that the barkeeper apparently keeps for him and his “escapades”). later, while mc is accompanying kuras and mhin to the bar, we see him pour shots for ais and vere. the group shares a drink (ais noting that leander “has tried to kill [him] a dozen times by now”). kuras and mhin head off to discuss their business with leander

- in his epilogue, aside from telling mc his opinion on the other characters, leander offers mc to let them touch him again (red choice lets you touch his face) and stresses that if they need “a taste of normalcy”, he’ll be there

notable: leander is the only character who doesn’t seem to actively dislike anybody (although the “rivalry” with ais doesn’t feel convincing to me)

all in all, the demo tries very hard to give him an aura of normalcy, which, of course, makes him pretty suspicious. the other characters’ reactions to him are also fairly telling, in my opinion

kuras expresses confidence in him, although he finds the company he keeps questionable. when mc calls the bloodhounds “rough around the edges”, he says leander prefers the company of those like him, implying leander is the same, and that his people trust him with their lives

ais talks about his charm and how it has gotten leander far. he also says leander has done a good job (for a human) but that his resolve will be tested in the future

mhin blushes at the mention of leander and calls him an idiot (in typical tsundere fashion) who can’t shut up to save his life. they compliment his work as well (with a tone that is “almost fond”)

vere is the most colorful with his expressions, calling leander a “pathetic, slimy, little man child in big shiny shoes”

what strikes me as somewhat curious is that leander is the only character to not voice a direct personal opinion on the senobium, although he does disapprove of the way they treat vere. additionally, his worst relationship is with vere, who is a prisoner of the senobium and subsequently hates ist, while his best relationships are with people who either seek entry to the senobium (mhin) or openly have business with it (kuras; though how close that connection is remains to be seen, given that he does mess with a senobium cleric lmao) (leander does have a good relationship with ais on the surface but something is straining it, especially since his relationship chart describes his “murder attempts” as being “funny...until they’re not”). at this moment i’m not entirely convinced he has a direct connection to the senobium but i certainly think it’s a possibility.

a much stronger connection, in my opinion, is fogfall. the prologue describes it as “spectral mist [that] bled from the seams where reality wore so thin it split.” ais also offhandedly mentions planes in his dialogue about leander’s resolve (direct quote being “Naturally, there’ll come a time when his resolve is tested. Same could be said for anyone, in this plane or the next.”). while this turn of phrase seems to reference an existence after death, it has to be considered that monsters (such as vere and ais) did emerge from the fog and thus from those seams in reality. whether or not the fabric of reality seperated distinct planes of existence remains to be seen but given the information we have, it’s likely. now, how does that relate to leander? for that we have to consider the phrase on his poster and its common usage. as mentioned previously, “as above so below” is a phrase strongly associated with bridging the gap between either the world and man, or, which is quite interesting in this case, the gap between different planes of existence (also known as the theory of correspondence in theology). and that second association fits very well into the worldbuilding established by the game. my guess? he’s either some sort of “barrier maiden” or has some sort of connection to either the fogfall itself or the plane that lies beyond it.

where does that leave us? while you could theorize that leander is a monster as well since they came from the fog, i don’t think that’s very likely. leander is the only character to not have a monstrous shadow on his character card; his is the only one to simply have a human form. the other possibilities are, then, that it’s either his personality that is the monstrous part of him or it’s his magic - it’s green, just as his eyes (which is drawn attention to multiple times), and his character’s shadow’s defining feature is his glowing eyes. i suspect it will be the latter but i’m open to be suprised :’D

in conclusion,

[gattnk]

Oh, the mysteries of the Universe! Even with eternity at their disposal, there will always be something new for Cimentus and Putzo to discover and teach.

Here we go! My second-to-last pair of teachers :D I've had way too much fun working on the Golden School staff, I'm almost sad to see them finished.

Cimentus and Putzo are among the many cut characters that didn't make it into the show, which is a shame: other than Arkan and Temptel, I'd argue they're among the best adult characters, their role as comedic relief is impeccable. Here's my usual notes on my work process:

I love working on comedic characters, they give so much room for goofy and eccentric shapes and proportions! I focused on the already exaggerated physical traits present in the source material and brought up as many key features as I could to the forefront.

The comic established both characters' classes as scientific in nature. To represent this, Cimentus and Putzo dress like the archetypical good and evil scientist, respectively: perfect for their new role as Academic Deans of the Cosmic Biophysics faculty. Their eccentric and exaggerated features are meant to combat the misconception that STEM classes are boring: class can't be boring when the teacher looks like that, you know?

The good scientist archetype is easily to distinguish: thick glasses, disorderly hair and, most importantly, a white lab coat. Cimentus already fit the first two criteria, so donning the white lab coat came very naturally to the design. It's also easy to infer his work is associated with a safe class environment: you can tell a lot about a professional's work environment by the type of protective gear they're required to wear in their field. Just needing a cotton lab coat says a lot about angel students as a whole.

The same can be said about Putzo and the evil scientist archetype: rubber boots and the classic Howie lab coat were already present in his original design; my inclusion of rubber gloves and tinted protective glasses simply reinforces the idea that Putzo works with hazardous materials on the regular... probably the devil students themselves. Fun fact: he's the only devil sporting round glasses.

I really loved Cimentus' colors in the comic: blue, white, lavender and cheddar yellow. While I tweaked around the hue and saturation, it remained largely the same. I brought purple to the forefront since it was my darkest color and it contrasted much better against his bright yellow pants. Unspoken rule of funny characters: bright-colored pants are your best friend, make them pop!

Putzo's colors were challenging. I wanted to keep his original palette of reds and greens and tweak it so it would evoke "sickness": finding the right balance between the hues so it conveyed this "air of disease" I was looking for, but also were appealing enough to look at in a cartoon character, was very difficult. He risked looking like a Christmas tree one too many times in the process :V

These two are the only two teachers with a significant age gap between them. Putzo is old enough to have wrinkles and graying hair in addition to his clawed wings and a tail, but it's nothing compared to his counterpart. Cimentus is decidedly the oldest professor in the entire school, which is apparent thanks to his three pairs of wings and his carved halo worn "the old-fashioned way" (the shape was inspired by a protractor).

Small adendum: don't worry about the rat, it's sleeping I swear. I put it there as a joke in my initial sketch and I just had to keep it lol.

I'll Fly With You (rewrite fic) Art masterpost

[lambergeier]

silviculture - 13.1k, alhaitham/kaveh

in which alhaitham switches places with his younger self and everyone handles this extraordinarily badly. we will improve this situationship or die trying. now on ao3! first two scenes below for ur reading pleasure.

Alhaitham, being no longer in his living room, decides the first thing he should do is sit down. He does so.

He’s in an Akademiya dorm room. It’s early afternoon. A few moments ago it was late at night and he was speaking with Kaveh, who was in the kitchen of Alhaitham’s own house. Alhaitham was leaning against the couch in the living room and flipping through a book that wasn’t worth the paper it’d been printed on. The book is also gone.

Alhaitham only began dreaming again eight months ago, but he’s confident that this isn’t a dream. It looks, with a great deal more specificity than could be possible even for his sleeping mind, like Kaveh’s dorm room. Books of design, materials science, desert exploration, runic translation, and piano theory are piled on the desk. There is, laying on the bedsheets by Alhaitham’s hand, a cheap but fashionable earring he remembers vividly for the way it had caught the light in their single shared lecture, late afternoon in the hall below the Sanctuary. Semiotics and Glassmaking in Deshret’s Kingdom. He skims the earring briefly with a fingertip then moves his hand to his lap.

He considers what this might mean.

The door swings open and Kaveh says, “Haitham, can you take some of these? I borrowed everything I could find on desert Seelies but it’s really almost nothing, like I can’t tell if we’re running into another ridiculous knowledge restriction again or if genuinely no one’s ever tried to track the Seelie courts in Upper Setekh, which would be so typical, wouldn’t it, so I grabbed everything else I saw on the–”

Kaveh’s face is bright, young, flushed, freckled, happy. He’s wearing an Akademiya uniform and is as tall as the last time Alhaitham saw him (fifteen minutes ago) which means he’s an inch or two shorter than the last time Alhaitham saw him, because the uniform boots are heeled. He’s staring at Alhaitham with the aforementioned flush spreading like dye over the silk of his cheeks.

“Kaveh,” Alhaitham says. “Don’t freak out. I believe I’ve been displaced in time.”

“Oh, I,” Kaveh says. His hands start to go slack beneath the stack of books leaning against his chest, so Alhaitham takes the books from him and sets them on the chair beside the desk.

“You–yes,” Kaveh says, the flush climbing down his neck and up to his ears now. “I–oh.”

He couldn’t be more than eighteen. Which would make it, assuming this is in fact the past Alhaitham remembers, which he really has no way to determine without further investigation, the year Alhaitham himself turned sixteen.

“I developed a bodybuilding habit when I was twenty and attempting to do some metabolic experiments that ultimately proved unfruitful,” Alhaitham says. “You can touch my shoulders if that would get this over with.”

Kaveh, whose left hand had begun to drift with little apparent thought towards Alhaitham’s bare deltoid, snaps back so hard his head smacks into the doorframe. “I’m so sorry!” he says. “I’m so sorry, this is so rude of me, I should never have assumed, I’m so sorry, and you’re so much older, and you never said–”

Alhaitham sighs.

--

Kaveh stands bent over the kitchen sink, working his jaw and watching his cuticles slowly go to ribbons in the soapy water. Not literally. Literally enough. He should have let Alhaitham buy the stupid gentle dish soap that didn’t ruin Kaveh’s cuticles. Kaveh stops himself from thinking further on Alhaitham’s incredibly domineering dish soap opinions.

Alhaitham has gone quiet in the living room, but that doesn’t mean very much. The state of their immortal souls could be at stake and Alhaitham would still bar himself from Celestia before he continued a conversation he continued boring. Or a fight.

Kaveh works his jaw harder, tension dull and radiant above one eye. It’s not impossible for him to wait Alhaitham’s silence out. He’s done it before and he could do it again. It’s a way to end a fight, and wouldn’t it be nice, ever, to end a fight? Without starting another? Could they hope for that much peace, at the least?

Suds climb up Kaveh’s wrists. The number of nights he’s spent in this same position, mirroring himself like silvered glass over the past year and whatever he’s lived in Alhaitham’s house, frustrated and sad and exhausted by this whole situation, feels suddenly like a millstone around his neck. What a joke.

“Look, I get that you don’t think conversation is worth your time!” Kaveh shouts as he slams the cutting board into the sink. “But pretending like this isn’t a problem just because you’re bored is not actually a long-term solution to the problem!”

Silence. “Haitham, I know you’re still out there!”

“Kaveh?” Alhaitham calls back. His voice ends on a high and uncharacteristic quaver.

Kaveh throws himself through the door to the living room.

There’s a different Alhaitham standing in the soft streetlamp glow of the window. There’s an infant Alhaitham. He’s skinny, teetering, his hair too long over his ears, where are his headphones?, god, look at those stretch marks on his shoulders, red as fresh paint—

Alhaitham is looking up at the ceiling, head tipped back, balancing poorly on his heels as he turns. His head follows the lines of the woodwork. “Is this—” His voice cracks, squeaking in a way that Kaveh was viciously self-conscious of when he was young and Alhaitham never gave a shit about. Alhaitham didn’t start the masculinizing meds until he was at least fifteen, supplies a portion of Kaveh’s heart that very rarely forgets. His voice hasn’t cracked since they were—

Alhaitham looks from the vaulted ribs of his home to Kaveh. His eyes are enormous. He appears full of stars. “Is this the research center… you designed?” he asks. “This is our project?”

“Oh, no,” says Kaveh.

He’s wearing the undershirt and trousers of an Akademiya uniform. The permanent frowning divot between his eyebrows has yet to form. The longer he looks at Kaveh, his pale eyes flickering from Kaveh’s face to hands to chest to belt, the more he appears, ludicrously, to blush.

“Oh, no,” says Kaveh, as Alhaitham trips backwards over the footstool and lands flat on his ass.

and u can get the rest of this over here 👍👍

[devils-acre]

Historically Accurate POTC Designs, Maybe??

Tried drawing some historically accurate Pirates of the Caribbean designs, with my best effort(s?) to keep the spirit of the original costumes!

Research rabbit holes below:

I set the clothes in the late 1720's, 1728-1731. At this time, coats were very full—almost skirt-like—with big cuffs, and the waistcoats sometimes had long sleeves!

For Will, I decided to give him just a waistcoat since most of his costumes in the movie don't have an overcoat, and it makes more sense for a blacksmith, I think! I also decided not to give him a wig since I don't think he would be wealthy enough or be able to work with one.

For (Captain) Jack, I really just wanted to give him shoes with red heels. They were popular in the 17th century, but carried over to the early 18th!  Wearing them meant you were in favor with King Louis XIV (who ruled at the time) and were rich enough to wear the color red. Since Jack is obviously none of those things I thought it’d be funny—he probably stole them. The T on his hand was supposed to be the equivalent to the P brand Jack has in the movies. Branding was a thing, just not for pirates! A T burned on the hand was for “thief.” Usually brands were like a warning, and if the offender committed another crime then they would be hanged—pirates, however, didn’t get a second chance.

For Elizabeth, her dress was hard to research. Technically the popular gown at the time was a Robe Volante, but I don’t like the way it looks so I found a different one haha :D What I could find from a few paintings was what apparently is called a “round gown” and was often worn with some sort of belt or ribbon thing at the middle. Not sure what that part is called, maybe a girdle? Technically, a mantua would be closer to the purple-red gown Barbossa gives Elizabeth, since it has fabric bunched up in the back, but I thought a different style could work too.

Elizabeth’s pirate outfit is just based off of what I could find for general 18th-century sailor’s clothes, which were difficult to find for the 1720s in particular, but didn’t seem to change much throughout the decade. However fashionable, boots (sadly) weren’t actually worn by pirates, and most sailors would go barefoot or just wear the current fashionable shoe at the time! She would also probably be wearing a knit hat, but I thought the tricorne was too iconic to take away.

And, lastly, for Norrington! He’s wearing a Ramillies wig (named after the battle of Ramillies in 1706) which was the style for people in the military, or really for anyone who couldn’t wear a full periwig (the really big curly wigs.) And for his clothes, since British Navy Uniforms weren’t introduced until 1748, I just put him in blue and gold.

And that’s it! I’m only a very amateur fashion history enthusiast and could be wrong about a lot, so if anyone knows anything about 1720-30s fashion or anything like that feel free to let me know about any mistakes or other interesting historical facts!

[gracebethartacc]

FINALLY.... UPDATED JJHH REDESIGNS..!!!!!!!

Ermmmm design notes/hcs bc I don’t remember ever going into detail the first time soooo:

-more pleasing/more coherent color palette/color coding (orange for Jackson blue for Holt) bc god the og colors are way too all over the place

-sun/moon, yin/yang, half n half etc motif (the necklace, pants, sweater, earrings etc etc)

-holt isn’t straight up blue because.... brother look at his og design.... -_-

-slightly darker skin tone than canon just bc I think darker skinned Jackson designs are cool, tho I’m not 100% certain on his ethnicity just yet? Still up in the air like I said it was mostly just bc it looks cool to me lol

-more punk/emo type clothes for holt (patches on his jacket, nail polish, platform boots etc (tho technically I like the idea Jackson was the one who bought the platforms just bc I think he really likes emo fashion but doesn’t want to outright wear it))

-also keeping the clothes the same/consistent bc i find the logic of them magically having entire different wardrobes when they switch kinda strange lol ?

-hybrid features (you can’t see it here but Jackson also has fangs not just holt, and the “dyed” part of his bangs i like to imagine is actually side effect of being part fire elemental and his hair might slightly flare up if he’s mad methinks) (holt is the same too like his hair fading from Jacksons brown to the orange instead of being just full on fire, also his skintone being a bit human leaning and not like multicolor) I’ve not designed Heath but if I did then holts human aspects would be a lot more apparent to have a full fire elemental for comparison

-holts patches on the jacket are all just lots of dad rock bands I grew up listening to that I think he’d like (if you’re curious considering a few of them are just logos/not got the name, in order: Queen, the cramps, the white stripes, David Bowie, Michael Jackson, twisted sister, nirvana, journey (I saw them at concert actually!!), Pink Floyd, and cheap trick!^^)

-if it’s not also obvious from holts jacket but: duality boys got the transmasc/bi swag, alsoooo some autism/adhd too (tho not sure which one it would be specifically ?)

-hc that instead of music it’s overstimulation/stress that causes the switch, for holt tho I’d say it’s the reverse so like it would be understimulation? (This idea isn’t very new tho I’ve seen a lot of ppl do it but it just makes a bit more sense to me tbh, also plays into the duality aspect more) I’d say things go more by DID rules (tho canon does that too kinda? But also not really??), so fronting isn’t strictly stress related and can be controlled/at will, and I hc they have a kind of head space type thing but I’ve yet to get it down on paper just yet

-OH I FORGOT TO MENTION:

Based the cardigan on the one komos has in the movie bc it’s one of my favorite outfits that they used :D

Um I think there might have been more stuff I wanted to say but can’t think of anything else, sorry if this was rambly/I said stuff I’ve already talked abt it’s just bc I’ve not done MH stuff for a hot second so wanted to do a little hc recap, plus had fun going over the character design stuff !! ^^

ALSO: holts patches in full quality bc they where fun to edit/draw for a few of em:

[zealouscanonindeer]

Chance Encounter

As I entered the small Strand restaurant where I had asked Watson to meet me, I saw at once that it was unusually crowded for that time of day. As I searched in vain for a table with two empty chairs together, I noticed a young woman sitting by herself at a table for two, reading a recent issue of the Strand. Her molasses-brown hair was up in a loose coif, though a few locks had come free. Her apparel was fashionable, but not extravagant, and her boots were of a style not frequently seen in London.

I stayed where I was, intending to wait until she had left before claiming the table, but presently she glanced up and caught my eye. She indicated that I should approach, though I did not recognise her and she gave no indication of recognising me. Out of curiosity, I walked over to the table.

"I will be leaving shortly," she remarked once I had arrived, "So you needn't worry that you or your friend will be left standing."

"What led you to believe that I was expecting someone?" I asked, my curiosity piqued by her comment.

"If you expected to remain alone," she replied, "you would have simply taken one of the solitary seats in the restaurant. As it was, you hesitated in the doorway and scanned the entire dining area, apparently looking for a table with two or more chairs together. It isn't usually this crowded at this time of day."

"I hadn't noticed you here before," I said as I sat across from her.

"I haven't been here before. You glanced at your pocket-watch as you came in, and you looked annoyed at the crowd. Hence, you were expecting it to be empty enough now for both of you to sit."

Not to be outdone, I observed, "You're very keen, for a left-handed, unmarried, secretary,recently returned from a travel to America who hadn't the foresight to take a cab here on such a windy day."

She arched an eyebrow at me. "How do you know all that?"

"The indentation of a pen is plain upon the second joint of the middle finger of your left hand, though even had I not observed that, one can see that you turn the pages of your magazine with your left hand rather than your right. You also do not wear a wedding band, nor is there the shadow of where one might otherwise be. The skin on both hands is overdry, as might be expected when one handles a lot of paper in their profession.

"Even before you spoke I noticed your boots, which are of a style manufactured chiefly in America, which told me that you had certainly been there when you purchased the boots. I could see you had walked here, as there is road-grime splashed on your boots, and the stiff wind has blown some of your hair free of its pins."

"Hum!" she said when I had finished, and she sat back. A slight smile played at her lips. "Well, even a left-handed, unmarried, secretary - whether or not she has the foresight not to walk in the wind - can easily spot someone who smokes tobacco, favoring the pipe when he is feeling meditative; who is a deep thinker on many puzzling issues and has a very keen eye for the minutest details; who is a lover of classical music and in fact plays the violin himself; who is a bachelor but takes a roommate; who takes a great interest in chemistry; who is a master in the art of theatrical makeup and disguise; who is a pugilist and fencer; who takes little interest in anything which he finds boring or irrelevant or which does not otherwise engage his intellect; and who is quite disinterested in romance or in fact in women as a gender outside of the necessities of his line of work."

She picked up the magazine and continued reading as I sat, slightly stunned. Finally my curiosity overcame my pride, and I said, "That is quite a detailed catalogue. Perhaps you might explain how you came to these conclusions."

"Well, there are two possible answers to that question," she said, "A long answer and a short answer."

"The long answer first, then."

"Certainly," she replied, "The smell of pipe tobacco is dreadfully difficult to get out of one's clothing, particularly if one smokes heavily at a stretch, so it has quite permeated your clothing, defying all efforts to remove it.

"Your powers of observation were quite clear from your own remarks about myself, but as they were quickly deduced it was clear that this process takes very little time at all. Nonetheless, there is a pronounced furrow between your eyebrows which naturally forms when one knits the brow in deep concentration.

"Your choice of musical instrument is evident by the broad callouses on the pads of the fingers on your left hand where they would touch the strings, and the narrower callouses on the fingers of your right hand where they would grasp the bow, and the slight indentation on the underside of your chin where it would rest on the body of the instrument. One who plays the violin could hardly be uninterested in classical music.

"The lack of a wedding band indicates that you are not married, but your clothing is well-worn, indicating that your income has not been substantial enough for you to afford new clothing for some time. The only way a gentleman in such a financial situation might afford reasonable living quarters is by going halves with a roommate.

"Your interest in chemistry is as plain as the chemical-stains and acid- burns on your hands, though I daresay a home laboratory would cause your roommate no little annoyance.

"Your lean frame is not indicative of a sedentary lifestyle. Furthermore, your upper body appears to be well-muscled, as would be necessary in boxing, and your right arm is slightly more developed than the left, which would occur in someone who practiced in fencing or played singlestick.

"Your interest in theater is evident by the slight smell of cold cream, used by professional thespians to clean off their greasepaint. All the same, there is a thin line of greasepaint at your hairline - hardly noticeable, mind you - which might result if you had washed it off your face in poor light.

"Your selective interest in most topics underlies most of these, particularly the fact that you have a keen interest in such diverse topics as chemistry and theater. It would be difficult and frustrating to cultivate such a level of expertise in all topics, so you pick and choose those which are most interesting and useful to you. The fact that this list does not include women was indicated by your bachelorhood, the lack of any indications - such as the use of cologne - that you are courting anyone, and your apparent reluctance to approach this table in the beginning and ask me if the seat you are now occupying is taken."

She thus concluded her explanation, and returned to her magazine. I sat silent for several minutes, digesting her essay on my personal habits, until I could no longer contain my curiosity.

"The long answer covers every detail," I said, "So what could be the short answer?"

She glanced up at me over the edge of her magazine, and silently folded back one half of it to reveal the full-colour title page of "The Adventure of the Speckled Band," which depicted me thrashing away at a rearing adder with my stick

"Occam's Razor," she said quietly, "How quickly you forget your own fame, Mr. Holmes!" With that she got up and left.

I was still laughing when Watson joined me and asked me if I was quite all right.

Head on to my sequel

the adventure of the trading trinkets

To find out more about her.

[furbygoblinxiv]

Part two of my Scum villain character design series! This time, the Mobei clan! This one features the three ice demons and then Mobei Jun's mother who's mentioned maybe once lol. Anyways, close ups and thoughts under the cut (keep in mind tho it gets long):

Keep in mind these are all head canons lol

So for the northern demons, I imagine they got kinda an Elsa "cold doesn't bother me anyways" vibe going on to where they don't need to wear layers that are warm, but they do adopt winter staples like fur or capes or boots. I also like to imagine their horns have sharp edges to reflect the harsh environment they live in. Northern style is reflected by (open skin revealing) pants and metals such as silver or iron that have cooler tones than gold.

I also imagine, for all demons not just them, that swapping jewelry is a sign of courtship/ownership. Hence why mbj and sqh swapped earrings, but mbj's mom is wearing the mobei crest and his dad isnt wearing her stars or moons.

Alrighty so explaining each duo lol:

I'm starting with them since their designs influence everyone else's. Starting with the unnamed mother of Mobei Jun. All we know about her, iirc, is that she died when our Mobei was young, and was apparently the cause of the rift between linguang jun and the mobei juns. However, I thought it was interesting that while Mobei Jun can shadow teleport, LGJ had to use wind to fast travel? Which I took to imply that MBJ's mom has some sort of shadow powers that he would then inherit. Based on that, I made her more of a night/shadow based demon, and decided at random that she'd be an Eastern region demon. She's got darker skin with and star type freckles, with her crest symbols being a star and a moon. That way, she has a visually distinct look that makes her stand out like a sore thumb in the north, something that would lead to her biting the dust sooner. She adopts Mobei/northern fashion things, but then still keeps her clan influences on her.

Mobei Jun senior I wanted to look regal and older, yet still having the revealing signature looks of the northern clan demons. His pants I also went out of the way to make more boldly embroidered than some of the other clothing shown. As well as that, I wanted to show his older age due to how large/long his horns have gotten, and I may even extend them even further in the future. He's also got one earring to show how he's currently the one on the throne, first in line.

Linguang-Jun up next! The biggest staple, I hope, is his ripped off horn. With how much LGJ plots about being awful, he never seems to directly go after MBJ senior (that we see with tangible results, at least). I like to think it's because he established firmly that he wasn't one to be directly trifled with - by ripping off one of his brother's horn. Aside from that, I tried to make him like a younger Mobei senior. Instead of white irises, he got green ones, since SQH said he had "peach blossom" eyes compared to mobei junior. He also has cooler skin and lighter hair than Mobei senior, less facial lines, and his horn is much smaller - closer to Mobei juniors horn length. It's also a tad hard to see on top of the hair, but he's wearing three crest earrings, showing how he's third in line for the throne.

Finally, we have moshang. Mobei is a mix of his parents, with the freckles and clan symbols of his mother and the horns and eyes of his father. I like to think that he got a recessive gene on the hair that meant even with two dark haired parents, he got snow white hair. In terms of clothing, the middle section of form fitting shorts above and below the belt is an Eastern demon style thing like his mother, and the translucent pants and the boots are more northern. Also, he's got one clan earring to show his status as second from the throne, one of his mothers moon earrings as a sign of respect, and he's swapped an earring with SQH. He's also got a cape similar to his father's just for the aesthetic drama of it all. In terms of his eye color, I think it'd be fun if his eye got more electric blue with the more emotions that he felt , but is dark blue with a white iris when neutral.

SQH has the attire of a peak lord in terms of the robes, with the same peak lord belt as SQQ. However, he also has northern demon/Mobei elements to his design: the neck piece with blue cloth coming off of it and the boots being the obvious ones. it's a bit hard to spot, but he's got two Mobei crest earrings on his left ear, from what he swapped with Mobei. Also yes Shang Qinghua has a villain moustache.

I threw in some little Mo's in the group picture just to show him as a little guy. I also think it'd be funny if his mom didn't like the palace very much but was like "eh this kid's alright" despite him being one and having like one braincell.

I still got one more part of this, the random misc demons like Sha Hualing and Six Balls, so if you've read this far, thanks and stay tuned for that :)

[chaos0pikachu]

Okay, so I finally had time to log back into tumblr and see you explained about Midnight Museum but now I am even more confused. So like, Khatha is immortal, but Dome isn't? But they were ~sworn brothers~ in the 1800s? Or is Dome also immortal but he doesn't remember Khatha? Or does he remember him and that's why he's his shit employee? But like if I was remembered being someone's ~brother in arms~ I'm not gonna like be your employee, lol. Are they really running a brothers thing when this man is like on the ground with this other's man foot on his thigh and like giving him an anklet? AN ANKLET? In 2023? And they're straight people? And brothers at that? With a $3 BILLION anklet? Why does Off get to be paired with damn near every woman in this company but Gun can't be in a show with another dude being his man? THAILAND EXPLAIN (pointing at map like the america explain vine).

Okay, first, I love how stuck you are on the 3 billion dollar anklet cause bitch me to the fuck Khatha lmaooooo

Lemme see if I can break this down, some light spoilers:

Khatha owns the museum, we know this b/c he says so and he's wearing a sexy suit and has a sexy cane to boot. All mysterious supernatural building owners wear sexy fashion statements Hotel Del Luna taught us this. Khatha is immortal, but via a curse, so he's constantly sad and struggling. He's a wet cat, just sad, pathetic, and crying. It's very hot, good for him.

Khatha was cursed by his """"bro"""" Chan something like 200 years ago. Chan is played by the same actor as Dome (we'll get there stay wit me) so they share a face. Khatha found Chan passed out in a boat b/c God likes to gift angel faced twinks to struggling disabled men sometimes I guess. Khatha is an orphan so he had no name, so Chan names him "Khatha" which means cane/spector apparently so whenever Google translates tweets from Thai fans they always say "I can't believe cane/the mace did this" and it's unintentionally hilarious

Oh and Khatha names Chan, Chan b/c he "found [him] under the moonlight". Khatha and Chan are Tragic AF for some reason Khatha thinks naming the angel faced twink after the moon is like, a lead in to being brothers. So Khatha is like "hey 'let's be adopted bros now" and Chan is like....I'm new here so I guess? Chan also has magic, he's able to heal ppl. Eventually he accidently becomes like a worshipped deity in their small village and another dude named Boon is like his top worshipper. This all causes friction between Chan and Khatha cause Khatha's low key lonely and jealous.

Khatha is like "let's run away together just the two of us as brothers like how it used to be" and Chan's like, nah. Khatha tries to join the army so he can be worthy of standing by Chan's side and the army is like "we gotta burn the witch (Chan)" and Khatha makes a deal with the army that they'll let him join if he gives them Chan and they're like "we totally won't hurt your brother" and Khatha's like I totally trust y'all won't hurt my brother

The army burns Chan alive.

Chan cursed Khatha and we zoom back to the present where Khatha is the museum owner.

Enter Dome! Dome is also magical and at first Khatha wonders if he's like Chan's reincarnation or something but he's not. Dome is a separate being (??). Dome gets invited to the museum by Khatha and Dome's ex bff breaks in and steals a bunch of evil shit with some buddies. Dome feels bad and is like "I gotta help you get the evil shit back!"

Dome and Khatha go on Getting Evil Shit Back adventures and proceed to Have Moments and Khatha keeps touching Dome's face like it's going out of style. Also holding him cause Dome passes out more often than a frat dude during rush week.

After like, the 5th time of Dome putting himself in danger b/c he's brave but dumb and shockingly fragile Khatha is like "I'm buying you this protection anklet" and then fires Dome for his protection. The next episode 85% of Khatha's screentime is dedicated to pining after Dome, looking at his corkboard of Dome photos, gazing longingly and sadly at Dome's photographs, crying on the phone after Dome calls him to wish him well. It's pathetic, it's beautiful, it's romantic.

Other stuff like cults, the end of the world, that dude from Bad Buddy showing up, that dude from 2Gether also showing up, the two dudes from the Thai adaption of Cherry Magic are also here, a whole episode of soul crushingly attractive women some I think were in F4 are also here as well. There's also like, four versions of God, and the Horsemen of the Apocalypse are here too. Chan shows back up too for funsies.

Dome ends up in like, an alt realm where he imagines Khatha to keep himself company and they look at the universe together. Dome is able to see real!Khatha by picturing the person he's "longing for". Khatha is hella determined to get Dome back.

Some more plot stuff happens, more crying, more resolving one's inner grief, a couple deaths, some deals with evil spirits are made. Khatha and Dome meet their world's version of God who 3rd wheels their floating rock date. They have and the height difference has a chokehold on me.

At the end Khatha has to find Dome even tho all the higher beings in the universe are like "don't do it" and Khatha is like fuck y'all I gotta find my "missing piece". They find each other, they hold hands and then run into the future together (away from gun fire and stuff like ya do).

So Dome's not immortal but he is magical, Khatha was immortal via a curse. The series is Khatha getting over a past love (Chan) and moving to a new love without guilt (Dome) and no one can convince me otherwise.

We all need a season 2.

[coochiequeens]

Thanks to gender ideology a dude who didn't sign up while there was still spaces left in the men's category was able to sign up to compete in the women's category. And he won leaving with prize earmarked for a woman while if he did run in the men's category he would have come in 55th.

By Nuria Muíña García February 2, 2024

A man claiming to be “gender fluid” has won the women’s category of a mountain race in Spain, signing up after there were no more spaces left in the men’s category. Quim Durán Pradas, who lives his day-to-day life as a man, says running makes him feel “feminine.”

La Cursa de NaDalt is a chrono-climbing race held annually in December in Catalonia, and its most recent iteration, held on December 26 of 2023, was its 13th anniversary. The race, which starts in Sant Pere de Torelló and ends at the Sanctuary of Bellmunt, is a short but challenging event, and consists of a spectacular route of trails and climbs of 3,862 meters with a positive elevation gain of 620 meters.

In true Spanish fashion — once at the finish line, every racer gets a glass of sparkling wine, something to eat, and to finish it off, hot chocolate.

But the results of the most recent race sparked outrage in Spain after it was discovered that a 48-year-old male had won the top prize in the women’s category.

Speaking to La Vanguardia, sources from the event’s organizing committee explained that the initial outburst had begun at the awards ceremony, where several people broke out into an argument.

Among them was Quim Durán Pradas, a 48-year-old male runner who was seen at the awards ceremony wearing makeup, earrings, and a ponytail.

“[He] was saying that [he] had won in the women’s category and that [he] had every right to be recognized. As an organization, we were caught off guard. There had never been a case like this in previous editions,” explained sources from within the Centre Excursionista Serragrenyada, organizer of the event.

Durán Pradas reportedly threatened to sue the event if he was not provided the prize he claimed he had earned — a pricey leg of cured Iberian ham from Beher Red Label. The prize’s value could range anywhere from €100 to €500 (approx. $107 to $540 USD) depending on the weight of the leg.

Due to his threats and aggression, the event organizers attempted to accommodate him, noting that it was “a bit of a tense situation.” Durán Pradas ended up receiving a provisional victory in the women’s general category. When he stood to receive his ham, there was booing in the audience.

The fastest female, Laia Montoya, had previously taken the top spot in the race in 2022 and 2023. Though she had been booted out of earning the top prize by Durán Pradas, the organizers sent her a box of Iberian ham anyway out of apparent acknowledgement of the unfairness of the situation.

Durán Pradas would have come in 55th place had he participated in the men’s category.

On Instagram, the race’s organizing committee issued a statement explaining “the ethical, moral and philosophical dilemma” they faced.

“We want to show our support and the utmost tolerance, solidarity, and empathy towards gender-vulnerable people,” they wrote. “However, at the same time we also want to underline that the NaDalt race has always tried to promote women’s sport, because historically it has been discriminated and less visible.”

Yesterday, Durán Pradas appeared on Más Espejo, a popular Spanish morning show, where he explained that he is a “gender fluid” athlete who feels “feminine” when he is running in natural environments, but “masculine” at all other times. He is not on any hormone therapy, and does not intend to seek out any surgeries.

“I am gender fluid, and when I run in the mountains, I feel like a woman, I feel like the other female runners,” he said. “I have been to an inclusive psychologist who told me that this is not a disorder. I am simply a person who, depending on the situations, is gender fluid. In my day-to-day life, at home when I’m with my children, I feel like a man. In my leisure time, in contact with nature, I feel like a woman.”

On the program, Durán Pradas stated that he wanted to educate audiences about gender fluidity, also noting that he had previously felt too scared to participate in a women’s category but decided to finally take the risk after being informed there were no slots left in the men’s category. He described the situation as La Cursa de NaDalt “putting [the opportunity] on a platter” for him.

He refused to accept questions from the presenter and the rest of the morning show’s panel, deeming them too “argumentative” to respond to. He then complained he was being subjected to a “hate crime” after one of the panelists accused him of “cheating” for running without having altered his testosterone levels.

“I thought this was going to go well for me, and you just won’t let me justify my position,” Durán Pradas said. “People who do not understand [gender fluidity] and ridicule it as you are ridiculing it… it can become a hate crime.”

[fourseasonsfigs]

Cold Male God

Since we're on a roll with figures inspired by Gong Jun's November 2022 Cosmopolitan Magazine photo shoot, let's keep going!

You've already seen Little Farmer Jun, as inspired by this:

As well as Harvest Tomatoes, inspired by this:

So today's fig is inspired by this shot:

I love sitting figs! There's something about the already small size of figs being even smaller and cuter when they're sitting down. Before we get started, here's one more shot from the magazine of this look:

No idea what the print on the sweater he's wearing there is.

The name of the fig, 高冷男神, gāo lěng nán shén, cold elegant male god, is a phrase Gong Jun has used many times to refer to himself before. He has it on his Weibo (fresh screenshot as of today, you can tell by his last post at the Jay Chou concert!):

He's also called himself this in situations where he is definitely not at his most glamorous! He posted the phrase with a (now deleted) Instagram post of himself as a smoky and dirty Huo Yan in The Flaming Heart:

He also shouted "Call me a cold elegant male god," after his Happy Camp episode where he had to dress up as Nezha:

The fig maker wasn't nearly as tongue-in-cheek with this fig, and instead took a much more literal approach! I'd say that out of the entire photo shoot, this indeed is probably the most aloof and elegant looking out of them all.

My guess (which is always extremely dicey given my lack of cultural or linguistic knowledge) is that the phrase 高冷男神 isn't that uncommon to use to refer to very handsome men in high fashion. Zhehan's been referred to that way (in his Sensodyne ad), and a quick search shows that it's been used to refer to other good looking men before. May be just an archetype for a certain type of look.

As you can tell! Hahaha, figures this little guy would be completely swaddled up in plastic to protect him. He arrived flawlessly, as only us mere mortals could ever hope to do.

The first thing about this fig that I noticed is of course his magnificent tousled sweep of hair. I love it, it is outstanding. In my opinion, Gong Jun looks best with his hair off his face and with plenty of volume, and the figs do too.

I have no earthly idea what the little creature is in his eyes. It looks like a video game creature almost? I experimented cropping out just that part of his eye and ran a reverse image search, but came up with nothing. Smarter minds than mine, no doubt.

We have his silver Tiffany bracelets here, and his hand artfully curled up by his face.

This fig is resin, but is a lighter type. Some resin figs I have are like bricks, they are so heavy. This fig is surprisingly light - I forget sometimes and think it's PVC.

Wow, look at his hair. Amazing! It's very tousled. I like it a lot.

Despite the narrow body silhouette of this fig, the fig sits up just fine. I don't worry he's going to tip over backwards or forwards. If there was an earthquake or something, though, I'd be concerned that he'd fall over (and maybe break some of those glorious hair tendrils), so he'll go on a fig stand.

I actually didn't realize in the photo shoot pics that he was wearing a hoodie. I thought it was actually a black hat hanging behind him in the shot where he's sitting on crates. But no, apparently it's just the hood that's been artfully propped up behind his head.

I can't quite make out what the pattern of the sweater is on his arm, but the fig maker worked hard to replicate it!

You can see he's very gently propped up there on his boots. Very much in line with the inspiration pic, but also the reason he's going on a fig stand.

This fig is so small and cute! I really do think this is the most impressive and dramatic modern hair style I've seen yet on a Gong Jun fig.

The fig maker even replicated the red branding dots on the soles of his boots!

He's so squinched up from this angle! Looking very small and adorable.

His hair is still impressive from the top down with that big swoopy piece there.

In order to give you an idea of the relative size of this fig, here he his compared to his other incarnations in this series.

Material: Resin

Fig Count: 420

Scene Count: 29

Rating: Cold and elegant model, warm and happy puppy!

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

[canis-or-cannotis-lycaon]

Some Old-Fashioned Assistance

TIMING: Early May LOCATION: Ingeborg's House in Deersprings PARTIES: Ingeborg (@nightmaretist) and Gael (@lithium-argon-wo-l-f) SUMMARY: Trapped in her house because of an abyssal puddle, Inge enlists on fellow professor and neighbor down the street Gael for assistance. CONTENT WARNINGS: None!

The puddle was proving to be a significant problem to Inge’s ability to get to work dry. That in and of itself wasn’t the greatest problem – she was used to rain – but her boots demanded some respect and dirty gutter water? Well, that was hardly a respectful way of handling them. And yes, she could just swap her shoes or attempt to jump over the puddle, but somehow she’d managed to rope an allegedly handsome man into helping her out. Who was she to say no, right?

She waited patiently, enjoying the rays of spring sun as she fiddled with chipped polish on her nail, flakes falling down still when the other appeared. His mother had been right to call him handsome, she supposed, and she thought she recognised her colleague vaguely. The staff at UMWR was so large and ever growing, and it was hardly like she was often found in the hard science departments. She pushed herself off the doorframe, and offered a wave.

“Morning, morning. Are you the glittery knight?” As she adjusted the strap of her bookbag, she gave a bit of a smile, remaining standing on the step of her building, which remained dry. “Bit of a situation here, as you can see. Unfortunate puddle placement. I hope you’ve not been having too much trouble with them yourself?”  ______ Fortunately, the mystery woman was in the same neighborhood. Unfortunately, the puddles from the piping failure hadn’t been taken care of and the area still had a rather uncontrollable puddle problem. They didn’t bother Gael but apparently not everyone shared the sentiment that you just wear cheaper shoes until it was taken care of. He also supposed that wearing trash bags over your feet was embarrassing for people.

So he wasn’t too far away from where she pinned where she was - Gael was a little surprised that she hadn’t displayed any hesitance when giving a complete stranger her location but it’s a good thing he wasn’t one of those weird types. Just giving a coworker a hand and a ride to work, that’s all it was. In fact, he was more worried that she wouldn’t find him as attractive as he said he was online, but that was incredibly superficial. He pulled up in the street and parked his ice-blue mini-cooper, getting out and beholding a, dare he say, attractive woman he also vaguely recognized. She was fine arts, he was science - not a lot of overlap, he figured. “I am! Mornin,” Gael replied casually, returning the wave as he shut the door and went around to the passenger side to retrieve something. As he did, he glanced around at the situation… the puddle didn’t seem TOO deep, he figured he was literally just doing this to be chivalrous. “I haven’t had… too much trouble with them, no ma’am but who am I to deny a lady in need of assistance?” He asked as he made his way around the car and slowly up the sidewalk, making sure to avoid any puddles on his own and approaching the trapped woman.  ______ She could hardly believe that he had actually come, but then humans were sometimes so delightfully fanciful and full of whimsy — sometimes it almost made Inge envious, who felt her own mortal life had been so lacking in every department but mostly in excitement. But what did it matter? She had all the time to do things just for the sake of it now, with little tying her down. This town would be part of her past in a matter of time, her name changed and her life turned around again. 

Ingeborg knew how to move around puddles (she could, theoretically, maneuvre around them through the astral plane with little problem), the same way she knew not to use a vacuum on them. But she found a little enjoyment in asking pointless questions online and, through that, getting to know one of her eager colleagues a little better. A win-win, she thought. 

She let out a soft laugh, genuinely amused. It was kind of fun, wasn’t it, to play at being a damsel in distress? She did truly care about her boots, though, and the puddle seemed anything but inviting. “Very chivalrous of you. It’s good to know we’ve got such honorable men on staff.” She looked at what he brought with him with an expectant expression on her face. “If our students could see us now, partaking in such old school ways, they’d never stop calling us old. So, is that it? Your allegedly ruined jacket?” ______ She didn’t look a day over 30 but the chemistry professor certainly FELT old sometimes. “Ehhh I don’t think the kids have anything to lose by witnessing a little old-school tradition,” Gael paused. “The positive parts, at least.” He added with a small, one-sided shrug and he glanced down at the jacket - worn, well-loved, a patchy gray color though it was difficult to see as it endlessly glimmered and sparkled in the sunlight. “I wouldn’t call it ‘allegedly’ ruined as much as ‘actually’ ruined,” He said with melancholy tinging his tone as he carefully held the jacket up - as Gael did so, the incredibly fine glitter particles dripped almost as though the jacket were wet with water, showering onto the ground between them. It ceased, though it didn’t look like any of the dust had left the jacket material at all. He held his breath this time, leaning back. “This is what I’ve had to deal with for the weekend, just… on my floor, in my nose and on one arm of my couch.” He said, lowering it and glancing over at the woman. “I don’t suppose you’d want it? before I sacrifice it to the puddle lords?” He asked, raising one of his brows. “Some people online said it was very razzle-dazzle.” ______

She squinted, eyebrows creasing along with her eyes. It would be hypocritical to call chivalry a bad thing, considering she had asked the other here. Still, though, Ingeborg wanted to pointedly ask what kind of good parts there were. She was glad that most of those traditions had died. “And you ruining your jacket some more to save my boots is definitely positive.” She smiled, somewhat impishly. “For me.”

Her smile faded, if only because her colleague looked properly sad. “I only said allegedly because it seems a matter of opinion. I think it looks great.” But having glitter everywhere was a pain, that Inge knew from experience. “What did this again? A glitter bomb? Did you piss off some students?” For a moment she considered his suggestion, then shook her head. “Let’s sacrifice it to the puddle. Maybe afterwards we can save it. I am quite crafty, after all. And you know what, Gael, I do think it is very razzle-dazzle. Maybe you ought to introduce some more glitter into your life.”  ______ He had admittedly gotten lost in the memories he had for the jacket though he made sure not to get TOO lost; after all, he wasn’t alone to reminisce in the memories. Gael was here to be an old-fashioned gentleman to someone in need, even if it was for completely superficial reasons like not wanting to wear a different pair of shoes. Then again, considering the last time he had dealt with the puddles… “Glitter bomb, yeah,” He said absently, waiting for her answer on whether or not she wanted the newly-accursed thing. When she passed, offering to see if she could salvage it after it was used for its intended purpose, Gael couldn’t keep a peculiar expression from crossing his face. “I already got too much glitter in my life,” He laughed. “Okay, okay, I’m putting it down. Might wanna hold your breath.” He said rather dryly as he carefully spread the jacket out, giving it one last look before gulping and slowly placing it, with the worn, dark inside, facing up on the puddle. The glitter quickly started running off, turning the puddle into a sparkling surface and just like that, it was done. He could say goodbye to his favorite jacket. Gael looked at Ingeborg this time, holding out a hand for her to take and giving her a small, gentlemanly bow. “Milady?” He asked, raising a brow. ______ Her eyebrows raised, surprised and somewhat shocked. “Too much glitter? I wasn’t aware there was such a thing.” Sure, glitter was a bit gauche and extra, but the rest of the world was already dull enough: so many professors just wore shades of brown, gray and blue. That, in and of itself, Inge thought a nightmare. No wonder she’d made a corporate-hellscape sculpture once.

She watched the glitter take off and swirl around the puddle and there was almost something quaint and pretty about it. She laughed, though, when he bowed and called her by a title so outdated that she hoped he never used it in all seriousness. Inge stuck out one of her suede-boot-clad feet, as well as a hand, but the moment it hoovered above the jacket it disappeared. It seemed almost as if the puddle had swallowed the thing with a gulp, along with all the glitter that had come off it. 

“Um,” she began, staring at the clear-again puddle. “I think there’s no salvaging that jacket any more.” Inge wondered how deep the puddle was and whether this problem was bigger than she and the city had initially anticipated. She did like a little strange water activity. There had been a stretch in ‘98 where she’d done nothing but give people water-based nightmares. There was a moment of hesitation and then she pulled off a flower from the greenery at the front of the house, dropping it in the puddle. It didn’t sink, no: it was swallowed. “Yeah, I’m not stepping in that. Jacket or no jacket. No way.” She tried not to smile.  ______ “Too much glitter for my pansy eyes, at least.” Gael chuckled in spite of himself, anticipating shifting his weight for her but he didn’t get a chance to do that. Instead, as she began to take a step, the jacket all but disappeared, sucking it down into… well, Gael wasn’t sure. Jacket, material, glitter, all of it was gone in an instant and he couldn’t keep surprise from splashing his face. Gael recovered quickly though, or at least as well as he could’ve though he kept his dark eyes on the puddle, which had changed back to innocuous in as much time as it had to eat his jacket. “Uhm…” He faltered, tilting his head, his hand still out to take hers stupidly. She plucked a flower from one of her plants, dropping it and no sooner had it landed then the surface moved and it was also devoured. “Uhhh yeah. Okay yeah no, don’t step in that.” He suggested, nodding his head with uncertainty even though he also couldn’t keep himself from smiling bemusedly. “New plan,” He started, now trying to find a place for him to put his feet. “I’m just gonna… lift you over.” Gael glanced at Ingeborg. “Unless you want to jump and I can catch you.” Upset as he was about the jacket and incredibly confused about the puddle, he didn’t want to leave his coworker stranded in her home until it decided to dry up. He wasn’t even questioning it anymore, or at least right now. He was over these puddles. ______

The world was strange. Inge had lived in a fair amount of strange places over the course of her seven-decades-long life, but Wicked’s Rest sure was trying to win the prize for strangest. That might just be a byproduct of it being a hub filled with the supernatural, though. As she stared at the puddle, she smiled a little, as if intrigued. Part of her wanted to stick her hand in and reach down, see where it would take her. 

But across from her was a colleague and she did have a reputation to uphold if she wanted to keep her human-job and human-life afloat. She quite liked her position at the university, after all, and becoming deliriously excited by a puddle that ate objects might be a little off-putting. A red flag, one might say. “What do you reckon would happen if I did? Would I end up on the other side of the world, or somewhere in a hidden cave? Or another plane of existence altogether?” 

His suggestions were fun, at least. Inge beamed at him. She wanted to get to know this science professor better, she decided. “Alright. I’m going to jump.” Life without a little risk didn’t interest her anyway. She pulled off her bag and swung it towards him before letting go. When that was done, she nodded decisively. “Alright. On three.” She put one of her legs slightly back, “One, two … three!” And with that, Inge jumped. ______ When she asked about the mysterious properties of the puddle, the raised his eyebrows slightly - she had an imagination, he couldn’t deny that.“I couldn’t tell you but I’m here for your enthusiasm,” Gael replied, glancing down at the water. “All I know is that if it ate that jacket and you jumped in, you’d be swimming in glitter.” The thought made him shudder, the nightmare of being surrounded by glitter in the water where it was free to go wherever it wanted. “Okay, gonna jump, got it.” He nodded in affirmation, adjusting his posture and holding his arm out where he caught the bag, looping it around his shoulder. It was her turn next and Gael opted to plant one of his feet as an anchor. He held his other arm out now as well and regarded her with a small smile of his own. “On three.” She counted, and he found himself leaning just a little more to catch her. Strong hands found her waist and using his planted foot as a fulcrum, swiveled the two of them and placed her on her feet, the aroma of what smelled like floral perfume and… the hint of oils, like the ones people used on canvases, swirling around them. “Just like that!” Gael’s smile widened as he shrugged her bag from off his shoulder and offered it out to her. “It’s like dancing only I wasn’t terrible at it.” ______

There was something funny about it, right? Science and art meeting, faced with a mysterious puddle. “What do you make of it then, Mr Science?” Ingeborg had never been very good at such subjects. Besides, with all the existence of magic out there in the world, who was to say that the science taught in universities was even accurate any more? There was no mention of the astral plane. 

If this was a test of character he surely passed, going along with the idea of catching her. Inge appreciated a little spontaneity, especially in her colleagues. So many of them had gotten so stuck in routine and regulations, their minds as organized as their boring curriculum. Gael, even if he taught a subject that interested her little, at least got into action to catch her as she launched herself from the front steps of her house. A burst of laughter left her mouth, her amusement gleeful and simple. “That was wonderful, actually.” 

Hopping on her feet, she held out her hand for her bag. “Off to work, then? Did you come with your car, or?” She nodded at her own, parked out front. “I could drive us too. Would be a waste not to carpool.” ______ She laughed, always a nice sound to Gael’s sharp hearing and he smiled himself, happy that even though she didn’t seem fond of ‘old-fashioned’ behavior it seemed temporarily forgotten as the two engaged in something that frankly probably looked like it came out of a cheesy romance movie. In any case, he was also internally grateful for her improvisational manner and though he would be mourning that jacket for a while, in the grand scheme of things it wasn’t very important. After handing her her bag, Gael collected his own messenger bag again and he cast one more glance at the abyssal, misleading surface of the puddle. “I think it’s… an anomaly.” Gael shook his head slowly and looked away from the puddle; he still had questions, no doubt, but they weren’t pressing on his mind as much as they probably should’ve been. Surely there had to be some rational explanation for it, a small sinkhole or perhaps a pipe under the pavement that was pulling things in? He glanced sideways at Ingeborg before giving a tilt of his head to his ice-blue mini-cooper convertible that sat neatly against the curb. “I brought my own!” He said enthusiastically. “I can give you a ride or we can take our own cars and see each other at work.” Gael raised his eyebrows at the options. “It’s completely up to you, my lady.” ______ Calling things in Wicked’s Rest an anomaly was quite an endearing way to go about it, Ingeborg thought. There were so many words humans used to explain away strange phenomenon, but anomaly was one of the better ones. She assumed this puddle was something supernatural, after all, not thinking this a basic geographic occurrence. Admittedly, Inge wasn’t too good at geography. 

“It’s odd, that’s for certain,” she said, “Must have something to do with those damned mines.” But what did it matter now? Inge had avoided being swallowed by the puddle and on her way back, she could always just project herself into her house, as long as she came home after dark.

Gael was proving to be fun company, at least. She considered their options and Inge smiled, “Your car it is. I’d like to get to know my chivalrous colleague a little better, after all.” She saluted him with two outstretched fingers. “Sir.” ______ “Oh, it probably does.” Gael cast a glance in a vague direction as she mentioned the mines - he didn’t know where they were specifically in relation to where he and Ingeborg were but their smell seemed to permeate everything from his visits to Monty’s farm to even the Commons, on occasion. Digging under his skin, invading his sinuses, seeming to flare something up inside of him, something deep down. Something that he wasn’t gonna think about for now. For now, Gael casually got his keys from out of his pocket, pointed them over his shoulder to unlock it and gave Inge a smile. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to come out of today but he had the feeling that it wasn’t ‘helping a fellow professor leave her house by having her jump over a puddle that ate his jacket’. Wicked’s Rest had a lot of questions but not all of them needed answers immediately. “Sounds good!” Gael nodded before taking a small bow and allowing her to go first.