#i had been getting a bit worried about my ability to quickly render poses but i think we are getting back baybey

[vohtaro]

more achilles

[milos-fanfics]

The Evils Within - Chapter 15

“No sign of him?” Peach asked. 

Mario and Luigi shook their heads. Back in the conference room, they sat in the seats across from Peach. Mario sat back in his seat while Luigi rested his cheek on the palm of his hand.

“Hey,” Mario spoke up, turning to Luigi, Luigi returning the gaze. “Didn’t you mention something about seeing Mr. L in a dream?”

His attention now caught, Luigi sat straight up. He knew what his brother was up to.

“I just thought, if you were to go to sleep right now, do you think you'd be able to see what Mr. L is up to?” Mario asked.

“We can’t find out until we try,” Peach commented.

Peach led Mario and Luigi back to the small room where Luigi crawled onto the bed and lied down. Mario and Peach stood on either side of the bed giving him a smile as he quickly drifted off into sleep.

~

Luigi found himself in a room in Bowser's Castle. He couldn't move at his own free will. He could look around, however. Looking around, he could see he was back in his old jumpsuit. If he could, he would have shuddered at the sight of it. This wasn't his body. He was seeing through Mr. L's eyes.

Mr. L paced back and forth in front of a blackboard with bullet points on it, twiddling his fingers and talking to himself. “Alright, one more time. One more time,” he told himself, now facing the board. "Sneak into the house tomorrow afternoon. Green's taking a nap and Red should be at home by then. Pose as that feeble dopplegänger of mine. Let Red's guard drop and…" he giddily read off the board. "Oh, that oblivious blockhead would never see it coming!" He laughed maniacally to himself.

~

Outside the dream world, Mario and Peach watched Luigi attentively. It hadn't been too long since he fell asleep before a, rather peculiar, smile began to form on his face. From the smile, emerged giggles. These were no 'cheerful' giggles, they had a more 'sinister' meaning.

Mario, now confused, reached over and lightly poked Luigi in the side. "Bro..?" He said quietly before jumping back in exclamation as his brother say up with a gasp.

“I saw him!” Luigi suddenly blurted out, “I saw Mr. L!”

Now calm, Mario asked, “You did? Where is he?”

“He's at... Bowser's Castle…” He said with a twinge of uncertainty. He knew for a fact that Mr. L was in Bowser's Castle but had no idea why.

“Bowser's Castle?” Peach spoke up, “What's he doing over there?”

“He's playing attack. An attack on…” Luigi stopped. His attention shifted from Peach to Mario, his face drawing more concern than it was originally. “...On Mario…”He continued, quieter than before.

Mario was discomforted at the thought of his brother, or rather, his brother's look-alike, scheming anything against him. He and Luigi shared a look.

“But, it's nothing to worry about. I might have an idea!” Luigi gave a nervous smile.

~~~~~

Mario walked in the forest that laid just outside of the house, Luigi hiding in the trees next to him. They had only been walking for a few minutes when they heard a rustling in the tree. Luigi hid himself deeper into the forest, Mario getting in a defensive position.

From the trees emerged...Luigi? Mario didn't know what he expected. He knew the person standing before him was not his Luigi, but the resemblance was uncanny.

Mr. L, now back in his overalls, strolled with a smile through the forest. He contemplated his plan but was thrown completely off track seeing the red hero before him. “Oh? Hey, Mario… What are you doing out here?” He asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice. The last thing he needed was to be suspicious.

“Just wanted to get some fresh air. I've been home all day. What are you doing out here? I thought you were taking a nap,” Mario asked in a partially teasing partially suspicious tone.

 “I just wasn't tired. That's all.” A single stream of sweat rolled down Mr. L’s face. “But I'm glad I ran into you,” he said, changing the subject. “There's something I wanted to show you.” He stepped closer to Mario. His hands behind his back began to spark with electricity.

Out of reflex, Mario took a step back. He didn't know it was coming next, but he was ready for it. Luigi slowly inched his way through the trees, watching the two carefully.

“Do you by any chance remember a little thing called... thunderhand? Right as he spoke, Mr. L threw his hand from behind his back towards Mario, who caught it with his own hand before he could process what was going on.

After receiving a little shock through his gloves, Mario realized that Mr. L had Luigi's old powers. Powers that neither he nor his brother have used in years. Powers he wasn't sure he had the ability to control anymore. Surely, this was definitely not going to stop him. He pushed Mr. L back.

Mr. L stumbled backward. Before he could go in for another hit, he was restrained by someone behind him. It was Luigi. “You're not getting away with any more of this!” he shouted.

“Oh yeah? Who's going to stop me?” Mr. L swung arms to the side, throwing Luigi off his back. It was Luigi’s turn to fall back. He wasn’t going to let Mr. L stop him that easily. Mr. L turned around to Luigi who start to charge to him. “Stay out of this, Green. This is our fight, not yours!” he extends his arm out to Luigi, a bolt of lightning shooting from his fingers.

The bolt hit Luigi in the stomach with great force, sending him into the trees around them. His back slammed against a tree trunk before he fell to the ground on to his knees.

Mr. L turned back to Mario, a sharp pain piercing his back. He frantically looked around. No one had hit him. He shook it off and turned all of his attention to Mario, his fists now flaring with electricity.

He and Mario fought. Punches thrown, kicks given. Luigi could feel it every hit Mario landed on his enemy. It hurt him. In more ways than one. He tried to get up to help his brother, but every blow knocked him down farther. Luigi could only watch in distress.

The more Mario fought, the more discomforted he became. This was because Mr. L although technically still being him, looked just like his brother. His attacks only grew weaker. He didn’t want to fight, but he knew he had to.

Mario jumped, Mr. L, doing the same, yet jumping higher the red hero. He smirked, holding his hands together and swinging them over his head before throwing them down over Mario's, sending him crashing into the ground.

Mario, now in a crater, tried to push himself off the ground, Mr. L softly landing behind him.

Luigi yelled out to his brother once he hit the ground, the look of absolute horror in his eyes, as he tried to get up. At this moment, it felt like a dream he had.

Mr. L smiled nefariously to Mario.

“But…” Mario groaned weakly, “...why?” He swore he knew the answer. This felt all too familiar to him.

Mr. L's smile turned to a frown.  “Why? I’m tired of being in your shadow, being seen as the 'lesser' brother. You know, I want some credit from time to time, and I’m going to get it,” his hand began to spark, “It’s my turn to be ‘player one’,” his hand grew brighter as it was pointed to the sky.

Mario was confused, but then it hit him. Not only was this situation similar to a dream he had, but Mr. L was a part of Luigi's mind. The two shared similar opinions. Mario looked past Mr. L to Luigi, who had finally managed to stand back to his feet, with a look that read, ‘I is that what you really think?’ 

Luigi shared a gaze with his brother, before nervously rubbing his arm and looking to the ground.

Angrily, Mr. L redirected his hand from the sky and pointed it to Mario, a ball of lightning forming at his fingers. Luigi remembered this part. He knew what he had to do. But instead of going one direction, he had a different idea to go another.

Just before Mr. L released the ball, Luigi ran towards him, tackling him to the ground. Startled, Mr. L released the ball, but not to Mario. He missed, sending it into the trees just above him.

Mr. L pushed Luigi off of him. Before he could attack, Luigi tightly gripped both of his hands to keep Mr. L from hurting Mario anymore.

“You and I may not be the same, but you're still me and I know, deep inside, you don't want to hurt him. You care about him. You love him. You don't want anything to happen to him,” Luigi cried, struggling to hold Mr. L back. He could see a look of regret flash over his face. However, this only lasted for a second as his face went right back to anger.

Mr. L angrily shook his head, “N-no! I’m not you and you’re not me! I don’t care about him! I want him gone!” With a shout, a wave of electricity shot from his arms to Luigi’s, electrocuting him.

Both Luigi and Mr. L gritted their teeth as they tried to withstand the pain. Neither of them could hold onto the other. They both took a step back, Luigi twitching a bit as he felt the electricity flowing through him.

Mr. L quickly summoned another ball of electricity and pointed it to Mario, who was trying to crawl away from the inevitable blast. Luigi recovered from the shock before pushing with Mr. all away. Again, the ball of lightning released without warning, but this time, it hit. It missed the heart, where Mr. L was aiming, but it did hit Mario in the side of the head, causing him to fall to the ground unconscious. 

An extreme feeling of rage suddenly built up inside of Luigi at the sight. His breathing quickened. Any and all rationality he had was thrown out the window. Nobody hurts Mario on his watch. Now facing Mr. L, Luigi drew back his arm before sending it towards his face.

The proceeding punch hit. Hard. It knocked Mr. L out before he could even hit the ground. However, this also rendered himself unconscious. He could feel the pain in his forehead before falling onto the ground next to his doppelgänger.

~~~~~ 

Chapter 14 - Chapter 16 Cover

[tryingtofeelanything]

Eventually...

English Bungou Stray Dogs Soukoku (just a bit at the end) & platonic Dazatsu One shot SFW (TW though : implied suicide attempts)

For DazaixHappiness week 2nd Day : How to suicide love / Birthday party. Third day will be on my art blog again. This... got out of hand. Like, it was supposed to be much shorter and somehow it feels like it changed into a series of short stories with a shared story line more than a whole, single one shot. I ended this in a rush honestly and, as some of you know, I had to translate it in English after getting done with the original version. So I really, really hope it’s not too bad. I did work hard on it. I may fix this when I’ll post int on AO3... probably next week, I hope. Oh, by the way, this has some references, well, about BSD manga and BSD Wan, but also about the real life authors. Can you spot them~? Happy birthday, Dazai~! ღ

    June 11th.

    The clinking noises of typing on a keyboard, with a tolerable speed, mingled in a well-known tune, of those sounds creating unfailing everyday life and familiarity, even where it wasn’t meant to appear. Atsushi looked up from the screen of the laptop settled in front of him for a few seconds, searching for the appropriate word he could not get a grab on. His gaze briefly scanned the office facing him, quickly noting a few of his colleagues in their most usual situation. In front of him, the grating of the plastic bag, wriggled with meticulous regularity, to the rhythm of Ranpo’s fingers getting one sweet after another. To his right, the sounds of Kunikida’s keyboard, smashed at an exaggerated, almost nervous speed. Leaning against one of the windows, Kenji’s heel nonchalantly tapping the floor, not caring about any tempo, too occupied as he was watching the city-dwellers’ swarming life. Behind his back, another sound, a lot less pleasant to his ears, of metallic items grinding against each other ; Yosano, busy with “maintaining” her “work tools". Finally, a few steps away, Naomi’s enamored monologue, having some tea with her brother between two files. The scenery was one of a distressing banality, some that could only be noticed, eventually, by someone who had not known the slow repetition of everyday life for far too many years.

    Both two-tone eyes found their way back to the screen in order to type a few letters without real confidence. The young man was trying to remember the previous afternoon so that he could render it into the most accurate report he could master. The route he had followed with Dazai and the comments the latter had done about the case involved back then - a potential abduction of a kid on account of an ability - paraded in his mind. He reassessed his mentor’s words. This feeling was getting familiar too, but he could not prevent the surprise from overwhelming him every time he realized how right his reasoning and anticipations were once the investigation was solved. By the way…

    He examined the small space on the screen giving the time in a digital format. The morning was getting quite late, and Dazai had still not passed the door of the Agency. Atsushi thought it right to mention it out loud. As if this situation was not a part of everyday life too - some familiarities are not good to keep. Kunikida’s frantic typing stopped. A sigh replaced them.

    “ Nothing to worry about. He’ll just appear from nowhere in a poor state or I’ll get a call soon from the police office to pick him out of there. It’s always like that at this part of the year. You can expect, starting from now, two very hard weeks. Take it as a test. ”

    “ A test ? Why this part of the year ? ”, Atsushi asked, looking perfectly confused.

    “ One : the test. To determine how long you’re still going to be able to put up with this whining wimp. Two : this part of the year. This desperate case’s birthday. It’s surprising he hasn’t started harassing you yet. Get ready. The longer it takes to happen, the hardest it will be. ”

    Atsushi was opening his mouth again still looking as much questioning. His colleague stopped him :

    “ Yes, two weeks. One before it, when he does all of his ‘preparations’. It seems like he does all of his ‘best attempts’ from the previous year. One year ago, it was death by suffocation, defenestration from a rooftop. Among other ones, of course. And the second week is after his birthday. Since he couldn’t get into his grave, he harasses his colleagues instead to beg for money as a birthday gift. Ah, right… It’s exactly on June 19th. You can get yourself ready mentally-speaking. And to do his work too, potentially. Of course, he doesn’t do anything here for those two weeks. At least, even less than usual. ”

    Tanizaki’s voice raised from behind the wooden screen hiding the sofa from the desks :

    “ That’s impressing, Kunikida ! I couldn’t remember everyone’s birthday if I wasn’t checking on my calendar. I even forgot Dazai was born in June. ”

    Kunikida answered nothing ; he looked like he was hiding some embarrassment, though. Atsushi saw him slide a hand towards his precious notebook, carefully settled close to his workstation. He wondered if he had written every members’ birthday right beside his “ ideals ”. Even Dazai’s. From sheer curiosity, the boy would have wanted to ask about it. His probable reaction appeared in his mind before he could do it, however, and he immediately changed his mind.

    “ Ah, now that I think about it, wasn’t there an attempt with fireworks too, last year ? ”, Tanizaki said, coming back to the part of the room dedicated to work.

    The newest recruit from the Agency quickly understood that it had been an attempt to blow himself up in the middle of “ fireworks "… Could they really get accustomed to this… strange part of Dazai’s personality so casually ? His colleagues got hooked on it and started talking about the incident. It seemed that Dazai had "accidentally” ran into a stock of explosive devices. And some people getting instructions right from the government owned the warehouse in question. Someone called “Sakaguchi”, coming right from the Special ability Department, had personally taken care of this case. No one really knew who was this Sakaguchi, by the way - and it seemed liked Dazai had made sure no one would know anything.

    Eventually, only one conclusion imposed on Atsushi. His mentor’s birthday did not sound like it was favorable for celebrations. It felt too much familiar. And it was also so sad. Even for someone like Dazai…

    His decision was made. Whatever kind of frowns he could get from his colleagues or Ranpo’s mocking smirk. He would prove that this day could be celebrated : he would hold a birthday party, and a decent one ! After all, he owned him at least that. Against all odds, after some obvious reluctance, everyone was (relatively) convinced by the newcomer’s enthusiasm.

.

    The first considerations and preparations were not difficult to do. The main guest hardly sent any sign of life in the two days following Atsushi’s decision. He proclaimed himself “ ill from an unknown illness with, as the main symptom, the inability to leave one’s bed ” on the first day, with a phone call to Kunikida. The following afternoon, he was using the same number to send him a message with a shopping list consisting mainly of alcoholic drinks. His partner almost threw his phone across the nearest window, before he remembered it was his. The only real risk, actually, was that Dazai could annoy the Agency members so much that they would give up on any kind of celebration… like the previous year, or so it seemed.

    The place did not pose any major problem either ; or rather, choices were very limited so that they did not really have to wonder about it. They would use the Agency, temporarily pushing desks against the walls - it took Kunikida some time to get convinced  ; it was promised that only he could touch his desk to move it. They did not have any budget to rent a hall and no one owned a place big enough for them to meet all and not being cramped. The sum on one of Akutagawa’s paychecks, he had shown him once as his monthly earnings, furtively and treacherously crossed his mind.

    Talking about Akutagawa… Maybe he was thinking too much about it, but, after the place, should they consider the guests…? Of course, all of the Agency was invited, but should he think beyond that ? He did not know who Dazai could meet outside of work at all… Or if there was anyone. Probably ? After all, Dazai was popular… Well, that’s what he was thinking, at least ? He could think about it as much as he could, his mentor never mentioned anyone Atsushi did not know directly from their mutual employer. Except from… one person, one he talked about only to criticize them in a negative way ? Who was from the opposite side - but they currently were on a truce and so wondering about it was possible.

    Now that he was studying this case - something that Dazai had skillfully avoided until now, it seemed, by only sliding implied comments, in moments and situations which would prevent anyone from wondering immediately about their frequency -, his ex-partner was rather often mentioned. It was only things like “ I’m sure a certain micro mafia was there ”, “ it smells like hat rack, don’t you think ? ”, “ I rarely had such a bad moment, except with some chuu-huahua ”. That being said, Atsushi could brag about starting to know him well ; he could now easily determine when Dazai was mentioning Chuuya Nakahara, even though he never used his name, but a myriad of degrading diminutives from what sounded like an infinite list. And yet, he did mention him, and he had done it often since their hard-luck story with the Guild. Did they meet outside of work ? Nothing could prove it, but something like instinct whispered to Atsushi that, yes, they did. Anyway, no one could talk so regularly about someone else… not wanting it at all… right…?

    Bringing it up to his colleagues was out of the question. They would only try to put him off this rather crazy idea and he would surely regret not trying. Well, it was a bit of a hazardous bet…

    This morning, just before heading to work, and as he let Kyouka leave first, Atsushi took a decision he would have thought inconceivable just a few minutes before it : he grabbed his second-hand cellphone, opened his contacts list and searched for Akutagawa’s name. How had they exchanged their phone number was a mystery even for them. The facts were that they both had it and had not erased in only minutes after saving it.  Using it was another whole story though… It was a true first time for the young man this one day.

    The tone of the call echoed for a long time and he thought Akutagawa would never answer. Yet, as the answerphone was about to set off, he heard someone answering the call. Then, silence.

    “ H-hello ? Um, Akutagawa…? ”

    Still, the same silence. Atsushi held his breath, both of his hands tensing around his phone, which was like glued to his ear. He repeated the name of the one who was supposed to be at the other end of the line in a questioning mumbling.

    “ What do you want, Jinko ? ”

    Atsushi swore silently that he would never admit he jumped from surprise at this very moment.

    “ Akutagawa… I have something to ask you ”, he stated with a tone he wished sounded solemn.

    A slight sound came to his ear, like a snort, but he got no… “human” answer. After another moment of hesitation, he hurried to get to the point, realizing the person he was calling could just decide to put the phone down on him any time.

    “ What do you know about Dazai and Chuuya’s… relationship ? ”

    Akutagawa’s surprise was not exactly audible. However his… “occasional partner” (?) felt it very clearly. And was only granted by silence again. As he was trying to repeat his question, he found himself bumping against a wall of oppositions. For a reason he could not understand, mentioning this subject was absolutely forbidden. He insisted.

    “ What do you want to do about this information ? ”

    Fatal question. Admitting the reason of his wonders meant that he could not decline the young man’s presence the night of June 19th. Dazai would not be pleased about that, for sure. As he would complain about Chuuya being here too anyway. Yet… He sighed. This was the only concession he would do to reach his goal.

    Akutagawa’s interest was still as quiet, but it increased in an almost visible way through the communication. To the point that Atsushi thought about sitting down for a moment, and he would have done it, if the idea of physically lowering down did not repel him so much - well, Atsushi would have been the only witness, but it was already too much…

    Talking about his initiative did not get him any real answer to his question, or any explanation either, though. However, he understood that Akutagawa was giving him his approval. Only his approval. Before hanging up with no warning. The boy kept the phone against his temple for a while, staring at the immaculate and shining sink of his kitchenette, looking outraged. As he was staying motionless, in order to get sure he could really not hear anything from the other end of the line anymore, the device vibrated against him to inform him about the reception of a message. He eventually pulled it away from his face and checked the small screen. A message from his recent call - the very first one from him - was displayed, with a phone number. Atsushi’s heart rate suffered from some uncontrolled frenzy.

    Taking some furtive side glances around him, as he was about to do something particularly compromising, he saved the series of numbers in his contacts list under the name “Nakahara”. Then, after a long moment of hesitation, he opened it. Another minute passed with his finger hovering over the phone call icon. He eventually could not find the strength for that and chose to write a written message instead. Today was still a day full of first times, anyway.

    Atsushi swiftly left home, in order to not get late. He attempted, with some difficulty, to find a way to formulate his invitation message to someone he hardly knew, but he knew to be quite short-tempered and not exactly the kind to jump at an event involving his ex-partner - at least from joy… While he was barely and somehow avoiding some passer-by, the text, modified so many times already, took on a more and more look of some sort of official declaration of intent and he wondered if his message could ever get too long to be sent… It was about truce - several times, just in case -, about free - but really, really free, no obligation at all here ! - choice and finally, after two paragraphs and a few dozens lines, about Dazai. At last, after reading it again for the fifth time, he pushed the sending icon as if it was a button that had something about life and death. The young detective then realized he had frozen on a crosswalk and hurried to reach the building where the Agency was waiting for him.

    As he was about to enter the building, his phone vibrated again. He jumped as if he was under a death threat. Nakahara Chuuya’s name was displayed on the screen like an order to answer in the following second. Maybe was he really under such threat…

    “ What’s that ?! ”, was the immediate exclamation, even before any kind of ‘h’ from a very hypothetical ‘hello’ could be articulated. “ Nakajima… The were-tiger, Dazai’s newest flunky, huh ?! How did you get this number ?! I didn’t understand anything ! I am supposed to do something for this idiot ?! With his stupid bunch of ‘good people’ or something ?! What did this pathetic excuse for a human being do to you to force you into asking me something like that ?! ”

    The boy stayed frozen on the threshold of the building, one arm reaching for the door. He jumped again when the Mafia executive’s voice resounded, pressing him to answer.

    “ I… What should I start to answer first…? ”

    The whole conversation sounded unreal. Like a dialogue of the deaf too, for its first half, at least. It also lasted quite a long time, considering how they got so little things out of it when it ended… At least enough for Kunikida to poke his head through several windows of the agency to check if their newest recruit was finally coming and, when he finally spotted him, to scream at him to hurry and get in. Chuuya got even more irritated by the mumbling that followed, half of it for his boss, the other half for his call. And yet…

    “ I don’t see why I’d do anything for this idiot ”, were Chuuya’s last words before curtly hanging up. “ I don’t owe him anything and I’ve better to do than wasting my time for him. I don’t have anything planned for this day but even doing nothing is more interesting than putting up with him. I’ll see. If I want to bump someone off. ”

    Once again, Atsushi found himself confronted with the sound signal informing the call had ended without prior warning. Nakahara did sound less… aggressive than at the beginning of the conversation. Despite the meaning of his words, he had high hopes. Was his intuition right…? He hoped so. Really. Otherwise, the whole night would turn into a fiasco…

—————————————————————

    After this first tacit victory, though, nothing happened as planned anymore. Dazai decided to appear again three days before his birthday, in one piece. Sources of anxiety kept accumulating starting from then : their purchases - bought with everyone’s savings, the Agency could not really help them with money - disappeared, the main reason of the party kept coming in without prior warning when they were discussing preparations and how to organize them… He even looked like he came out of nowhere, once, while Yosano escorted Atsushi to get some drinks and snacks. The latter was convinced that he would lose a few years of life expectancy in this episode…

    On June 18th was the climax. Dazai entered the agency in the middle of the morning, opening the door with a wide and dramatic move. Atsushi felt his hair stand on the back of his neck in an absolute warning sign. He exclaimed with a fake solemnity that he had a great announcement to do.

    “ I’m here to bid farewell to you all ! This time, I’m about to find the woman of my dreams for a perfect shinju ! Well, not like I’ve any r…! ”

    “ Dazai ! ”

    Atsushi’s blood boiled. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on him.

    “ Please come to work tomorrow ! Please ! ”

    Those times when Atsushi could actually surprise Dazai were rare. He once even made it his goal. Unfortunately, he could not fully appreciate the way chocolate eyes widened in surprise for a short moment. The expression only fleetingly crossed his face before his features softened back to let a light sigh escape.

    “ Very well. If, really, you cannot go without me, I’ll make an effort for you. ”

    The corner of his lips tensed in a slight smile.

    “ But well, Atsushi… I’m so sorry. I am really not interested in men. ”

    Atsushi looked away, unable to choose between feeling embarrassment or dismay.

—————————————————————

    June 19th.

    Atsushi should not be so nervous for something so trivial. He was. Definitely. He was not Osamu Dazai but he had already thought about dozens of worst-case scenarios involving the party. It could not go well. Why did he even get such idea ? Ah… no, no, no. Get a hold of yourself, Atsushi ! Everything will be alright if everyone believes in it…!

    The young man had come earlier than usual to work after he got out of his usual way to stop at a flower shop. The premises were still empty when he entered. Kyouka should not take long to come in, though ; she was also about to depart when he left her. After he carefully hid a perfectly wrapped packet - two hours and nine tries had been needed to do it, and his young roommate had come to his rescue for the last one - in a drawer of his desk, praying every god he could think of for it not to disappear like half of the drinks and the cardboard for ornaments. After some time of thinking it through, he put his bouquet on the desk Dazai was supposed to use. He adjusted the composition a bit - daffodils ending the season and iris, interspersed by a few flowers of vibrant bluebells, enhanced by some ribbons here and there. He trusted the seller entirely for his choice. Dazai had never shown any interest for flowers ; they had felt like a good idea as a first present, before he would give, later in the evening, his actual gift - a book. Atsushi was sure about that one : Dazai liked reading a lot. He had taken a long time examining publications for sale in a small book store sitting close to his home. His choice had eventually inclined towards a collection of short stories. One hundred views on Mount Fuji. His mentor was hard to grasp, he would not have pretended he knew him that well. Yet, this work had immediately felt fitting. He just hoped he had not already read it.

    The front door slid open with a very light noise. He smiled at Kyouka while she closed it as quietly.

    “ You’re the first one to come ”, he noticed.

    “ Kunikida is here too. ”

    “ He’s early too. ”

    “ He’s waiting in front of the door. ”

    A slight, more bothered than amused, laugh passed through Atsushi’s lips. He checked the clock hanging on the wall. Kunikida would still wait 3 minutes and 36 seconds before turning the handle…

    Dazai only came around 3 in the afternoon, with a wide pout crossing his face and looking particularly bothered from the effort he had to do to reach the agency. As he made his way to “his” couch, under Kunikida’s unbroken flood of blame, Atsushi rushed to his bunch of flowers to hand it to him.

    “ Happy birthday, Dazai ! ”

    The flowers were stared at from some distance away for a while, with an unreadable but almost suspicious expression. Then Dazai’s shoulder shook from a silent laugh and he took the gift. The boy could not exactly ignore the feeling of relief spreading in his chest.

    The following hour, however, was only whining and Kunilkida’s more than irritated comments, getting to the point that no one could really work on any kind of task. Tanizaki, Naomi, and Kenji were luckier : they were on a small business trip with no real consequences for a client. They should not be long to get back, by the way. Atsushi hopped everything would go as planned and there would not be any setback.

    The phone rang. Kunikida, as usual, picked it up. After the first formalities - identity, reason of the call, essential details about the case -, he spent a long time listening to, obviously, some client’s explanation. When the call ended, he silently stood up and made his way to Fukuzawa’s office, under Dazai’s suspicious gaze. He came out a few minutes later.

    “ Dazai ! Tear off your rear end from this couch and get back to work ! ”

    The succession of complaints this sole sentence triggered surprised no one. Kunikida did not let a single one get fully worded and vehemently pushed his partner towards the door. Atsushi could only exchange a quick glance with him and got up from his own seat.

    The door, of the agency, then of the building, closed behind both men. Dazai immediately stopped his lamentations to move on to an amused smile instead :

    “ So, then, where were we meant to go oh so suddenly ? ”

    Kunikida was about to tell him the exact place ; he remained silent as he turned to the young man and met his gaze. A sigh escaped him.

    “ You’ve already figured everything out, haven’t you ? … So you were the one who stole Atsushi’s purchases ? ”

    “ So, how long do we have to stay outside ? ”, the young brown haired man asked, obviously avoiding the last question.

    “ I figured that, with the time to go there, quickly stop and go back, it would take one hour and forty-two minutes ”, his colleague speculated, swiftly browsing his notebook. “ It’s quite far away from here. ”

    “ Well then, Kunikida, instead of running to some place where no one is waiting for us, and since you wouldn’t let me have a drink meanwhile, you could buy me a coffee ? It’s supposed to be my day, right ? ”

    Another sigh. At least, Kunikida could find a new café, and a rather nice - and expensive for his wallet, the only one to suffer - one. The Agency’s usual café was not an option, since Kenji, Naomi, and Tanizaki could come back at any moment and see them.

—————————————————————.

    Two hours later - eighteen minutes were lost because of Dazai, who did not find anything better than offering a young waitress to chose her favorite bridge for them to jump from it together, almost crudely -, both partners appeared again in the narrow hall leading to their workplace. Seeing Kunikida hurriedly typing something on his phone, his colleague, uselessly loud, exclaimed that their client had been particularly impolite not waiting for them although they had made the trip for him only. A series of hasty sounds, hurried steps among them, came from behind the door. Eventually, Kunikida put a hand on the handle, glancing one last time at Dazai to show him clearly that his patience was getting to an end and that he would not do that much for him so soon anymore, and finally entered the room, taking a side step so that the main guest could get a good look at the work done while they were away. The way chocolate eyes widened for a quick instant of surprise did not look fake.

    Atsushi really had put his heart and soul into it. The whole thing was a bit precarious, the desks somehow pushed on the sides, a few garlands clumsily hanged up and clearly cheap (the cardboard holding ornaments had suddenly reappeared in the afternoon in Fukuzawa’s office, whereas the latter would have never had the absurd idea of stealing it, and Atsushi would have never dared to hid it there), but the efforts were obvious.

    “ Once again, happy birthday, Dazai ! ”

    The latter looked down at the radiant smile from his… protégé ? Yes, maybe, a bit, he surreptitiously thought while noticing the wrapped packed he was handing him. He took it with a questioning look and, not caring about any decency, he unwrapped it immediately. Once again, a slight surprise briefly appeared on his face when he silently read the title.

    “ I hope you haven’t already read it… ”

    “ Actually, I did ”, he admitted, with a strange smile, softer than what he got those around him used to. “ But it’s a nice book. I wouldn’t mind reading it again. Thank you, Atsushi. ”

    Even someone like Dazai, supposedly, could be delighted about the expression of joy, mixed with relief, which brightened Atsushi’s face at this moment.

    It was however quickly interrupted when a black figure, which did obviously not belong there, but was clearly determined to firmly stay, slightly moved from a less lighted corner looking like it was made just for it. Akutagawa’s dark gray eyes were staring at Dazai with a piercing gaze. The latter looked sideways towards Atsushi, looking clearly disapproving. The boy answered with an apologizing smile. Dazai immediately examined the room, suspicious.

    The first part of the evening went without a problem. Atsushi tried to approach Akutagawa cordially a few times. He kept his distance, scanning Dazai’s every move. The latter emptied a generous amount of bottles of sake, even though he was significantly helped by Yosano, who quickly became very jolly…

    The door opened abruptly in a relative crash. Silence fell onto them immediately as everyone turned to another black figure, with only fire-like hair and blue eyes on watch standing out. A few minutes passed with no movement.

    “ What ? Do you want a photo ? ”, Chuuya flung, closing the door behind him without any care for gentleness.

    Atsushi cast a quick glance at Dazai. He had an ostentatious pout on his face. Chuuya, maybe not feeling so at ease, quickly took a look at everyone and stopped at Dazai with a disdainful glare. He walked to him with fast steps and forced what clearly looked like some bottle of alcohol wrapped in gift wrap onto the detective’s chest.

    “ What is a Mafia hat rack doing here ? ”, the young brown haired man let out once he found his breath and grabbed the bottle with a critical look. “ And I hope it’s not one of your dated wine inside. ”

    “ This is not the first time I’m coming here and anyway, you sneak in our headquarters whenever you feel like it, so I don’t see a problem. And about my wines, there is a difference between dated barrels and quality ones, you ignorant idiot ! ”

    “ You’re the one with awful tastes, chibi. "  

   Dazai’s eyes stopped on a single peach blossom, carefully attached to the wrap with a thin ribbon tied around the bottleneck. He looked up at Chuuya, raising an eyebrow, but it was thoroughly avoided. Conversations echoed back around them as they found a new - more consensual - topic to biker. Dazai unwrapped the gift meanwhile, to find a high-quality bottle of sake. He did not make any comment about it, which clearly pointed out his approval. A very informed eye would have seen him surreptitiously slide the flower in one of his coat pockets. If Atsushi did not see it, watching them interact, he came to the conclusion that his idea had not been so bad. He would have not been able to say why he had this feeling though.

    Maybe was it because, from this moment, Chuuya entirely monopolized Dazai’s attention. Sure, they only complained about each other. Yosano was interrupting them from time to time with a not so really elegant, loud laugh. The young man with auburn hair looked at her.

    " She looks a bit like Kouyou when she’s way too drunk… ”

    “ Ugh, Chuuya, you could’ve avoided talking about that. ”

    “ You wanna talk about you when you’re drunk as fuck ?! ”

    “ Are you sure you want to get on such a dangerous topic, Chuuya ? I have a lot of compromising files involving Chuuya and alcohol… ”

    “ Hah ?! And what if you shut up for a while so that we can all have five minutes’ peace ?! … I’m going out for a while before I really make you choke on my hands right here and there ! And none of your buddies here could save you ! ”

    “ Oh, chibikko is worrying about me now ? I would almost be touched if it didn’t come from a midget with such bad tastes… ”

    Chuuya’s “ go fuck yourself ! ”, followed by the slam of the door behind him, actually meant “ I’ll be back soon ”. No one was surprised when, only five minutes later, Dazai announced he was going to get him. He was so small that some passerby could mistake him for a child stuck on the roof and call the emergency number for nothing. No one thought about asking him how he knew the Mafia executive was on the roof either.

    Chuuya was barely starting on a cigarette, leaning his elbows on the fence separating him from the asphalt of the street, around twenty meters below. He did not react when Dazai’s footsteps got closer, watching the darkened sky with no stars, his back willingly exposed. He turned his blue eyes to him only when his ex-partner came to lean against the fence too.

    “ I’ve never asked you to follow me. ”

    “ I know. If you had, I wouldn’t have come. ”

    A grumble answered him. Chuuya’s gaze turned back to the city spreading in front of them. A simple and calm silence settled for a few minutes. Then Dazai’s voice broke it gently :

    “ Why did you accept Atsushi’s invite ? It’s quite impressive he could convince you. ”

    Chuuya took the time to take a long puff out of his cigarette before starting an answer.

    “ I was just curious, to see that someone actually cared that much for you. I wanted to see… your new colleagues and all… ”

    Dazai just looked at him in silence, his face unreadable. Chuuya let him avoid the comment. He knew this face. He knew it hid the will to not let any kind of emotion transpire. It wasn’t all that hard to admit he was just a bit thankful…

    “ Besides, Chuuya ! "

   The suddenly joyful tone was rather worrying.

    " I’m still waiting for your gift ! ”

    “ Hah ? I’ve already given it to you, moron. ”

    “ Ah, Chuuya, I would’ve never thought you were this shy. I even have no choice but take it myself. ”

    A flash of understanding crossed Chuuya’s gaze before Dazai slid one hand on his cheek to bring their faces closer. Surprise first tensed the jaw under his long and thin digits. A breath imitating a sigh gratified the young brown haired man and the jaw slightly rotated so that their lips could perfectly mold together in an innocent kiss. They kept still against each other for some time, just enjoying the softness of the touch. It felt like the traffic had stopped under their feet, the only sounds from the city echoing from far away. A light laugh, lacking any kind of animosity, even betraying longing, made the throat wrapped in a leather choker shake.

    “ You’re horribly sentimental tonight. It’s disturbing. ”

    “ Don’t worry like that, Chuuya. It’s just a foretaste for what is coming tonight. You should read it as a signal telling you not to drink too much. When this party is over, I’m going back with you. ”

    Dazai’s voice gradually got lower, turning into a whisper pleasantly vibrating against the young man’s lips. He let a few of his strands of hair getting gently pushed away by a bandaged hand. Before their lips met for a second time, he opened his to make a quick comment. However, his partner forestalled it :

    “ You know my walls are too thin for me to bring you home. ”

    Chuuya felt the need to whisper the few letters of “ pervert ” before kissing him again, even though that allowed his lover to feel his smile which wouldn’t erase, nor even fade. They had had a lot of “accidents” since their temporary partnership against Lovecraft and had found themselves in crumpled and soiled sheets of the mafioso’s bed several times. Their secret encounters had increased after Dostoevsky’s rats appeared in Yokohama. They started to accept it, to discuss without insulting each other, just lying together in bed, just barely a few weeks earlier. Dazai never had demonstrated any form of… “romanticism”. Kissing had only been used for their provoking, sometimes brutal game of seduction. Both pupils encircled with blue tones watched this face, formerly wrapped in bandages, compresses and band-aids. They got briefly covered by two eyelids, in silent admission. This naive boy had managed the achievement of making Dazai feel happy for just one night. Or at least, as happy as Dazai could be…

    Footsteps revealed a third person was coming. Chuuya stepped backward in order to quickly break their embrace. His partner stopped him and put one hand on the back of his head, his fingertips pushing between red strands of hair, against his scalp, as if affectionately massaging it. The movement was meant to be soothing and he got it as a silent “it’s okay”. So he let Dazai kiss him tenderly as Atsushi froze a few meters away. The gentleness in Dazai’s eyes when they pulled away was something he had never witnessed before.

    Chuuya finally acknowledged Atsushi's presence. The boy sported two very crimson cheeks. A part of Akutagawa’s coat was pulling at his arm. He probably had advised him not to check if everything was okay on their mentors’ part while denying him any kind of explanation… The were-tiger hastily apologized and stated that they could take as much time as they want, that he was relieved to see everything was going well. A split second later, the soles of his shoes disappeared through the door leading to the last floor of the building.

    When the young man turned back to Dazai, he was smiling tenderly at him. Once again, he could interpret his silence. “ Thank you for coming ”. He let a small laugh out.

    “ You better thank Atsushi properly. ”

—————————————————————

     … it’s not so bad.

[elpiething]

Pointy Wooden Bits - Adoribull

Rating: M Warnings: Transformation, mild violence.  What It Actually Is: AU feat. Pirate!Bull and Cursed Figurehead!Dorian.  Notes: Is it odd that I’m excited to finally use the ‘Halward Pavus’ A+ Parenting’ tag? You can find this story on Ao3 here. 

-

Honestly, Dorian thought his father was being a bit over dramatic about all this. And he would tell him so, loudly and in grand public fashion, if he were not presently rooted in a pose of seductive invitation.

And made of wood.

Because, as Halward said, if he were going to be such a whore, he might as well be useful about it.

And then he’d made him into a fucking figurehead.

Which is in itself ironic, because it had always vexed his father so to see Dorian exposing himself, and now here he was, arms eternally outstretched, tits out in the open air, waiting to be purchased for slightly more than his usual drink and a smile.

It is simple enough to undo, my son. Halward said, like he hadn’t just rendered his son an inanimate decoration. You need only resolve to come home.

Stretched out like the heroine of some horrid romantic rag with Rilienus’ sheets still draped about him, he’s not certain how long he’ll be able to hold out amongst these cramped, dusty shelves.

Surely no one will purchase such a tawdry decoration. No one has such poor taste.

He has no idea.

-

The Chargers are red-faced with drink and elbowing each other near hard enough to bruise when they come across the grimy little shop with its collection of odds and ends. The Iron Bull has to duck and turn to make it through the door, and the shopkeep sucks his teeth at the sight of him.

He runs gentle fingers over a disgustingly pink tea set before gravitating towards the back, where a few figureheads in various states of repair hang in a riot of color and confusion.

And then, the whisper:

Krem! He hisses. Look!

In his voice, there is a mixed sense of wonder and pride. He stares, transfixed by the pierced brown nipples of a truly erotic carving.

Krem wanders over, still smiling and stumbling a bit, but the joyous expression fizzles a bit when he realizes exactly where this is going. “Chief. No.”

“Lookit that moustache, Krem. There’s real character there.”

“We both know it’s the pointy wooden nipples you care about.”

“They’re pierced, Krem. And he’s so pretty.”

“So was the one we knocked off.” Krem sighs. “Soft, pillowy breasts. Kinda like yours.”

Bull pouts, or gets as close to it as a qunari can manage. “He’s comin’ with us.”

At the bottom of the ocean, a busty redhead made of wood does not roll her eyes.

-

Under slightly different circumstances, Dorian would be living a well-frequented fantasy right now, being manhandled by a great hulking qunari with calloused hands.

That is, if a giggling elf weren’t presently securing him to a ship’s bow with magic that is simultaneously cold and itchy. But as the power ebbs, he’s taken by a sensation rather like a full-body sigh.

The wood at his back welcomes him in, and he feels the wind in the sails, the creaking of the deck, and the soft lapping of the waves on skin that is far thicker now. It’s almost like happiness, until that familiar twinge of boat sickness turns in his belly.

Oh dear. He thinks.

“Nice tits.” Another, angrier elf scoffs.

The Skinner, the ship supplies, helpfully.

The qunari—The Iron Bull— pats his hip gingerly and says, “Welcome home, big guy” and his ragtag—his crew, his precious crew. Footsteps on the boards. Skin on rope on sun on salt—they head up to their cabins with the soft-woven hammocks and ready themselves for sleep, and suddenly Dorian’s arms fall from their stiff position.

They ache horribly and all he wants to do is follow these strange folk down into the depths of sleep. But he’s attached to a ship bobbing on the water, and he is the farthest from freedom he has ever been.

But suddenly he can move, which is a thing that figureheads are most certainly not supposed to do.

“Kaffas,” He rasps.

Because he can do that, too.

-

The Chargers are strange, for pirates.

They’re strange for any group, really.

The Skinner hates humans, but tolerates the Krem, the Grim, and the Stitches, who are probably not named thus, (but the ship does not care.)

The Bull hangs somewhere between the Qun and the family, which is not part of the Qun, but very much a part of the Bull. Just like the ship is now part of Dorian.

No.

Yes, very much.

Fine.

Thank you.

Another wave of warmth, which is nice, because it drowns out the nausea and odd, because he is now sharing his consciousness with a boat.

But the Chargers—the lot of them, they’re strange and affectionate and easy, even when they are also violent.

Dorian thinks, ‘This is what friendship is like. It must be nice.’

And the ship—it can’t frown, but it sighs very sadly in a rolling shiver under his skin. You know the friendship. You call it Felix.

And Dorian suddenly very much appreciates sharing his consciousness with a boat.

-

But. The. Chargers. Are. Strange.

And. Ours.

It’s rather like arguing with a small child over a toy. A toy they’re prepared to kill for.

-

They re-christen the ship The Bull’s Rack.

The Rack is proud of this.

Well, it does not laugh, but the sensation is similar. What would you call us?

‘Friend, I think.’

Felix.

‘No. That’s someone else’s name. You are you.’

The Rack does not respond. It is too busy quivering happily in the ocean breeze.

-

Their first engagement by sea is pain and chaos and fury, and Dorian feels it twisting through his every nerve and sinew. The Rack rolls and lunges with the waves, but this time he is not sick, he is powerful and angry. He rolls with the force of it and feels the roar of the cannons under Rocky and Grim’s steady hands.

He feels the volley of magic that Dalish desperately hurls and he supplements it, his mind clear, his every thought focused and sharp.

He is helping. They are his.

This ship is his.

This ocean is home, and he will inhabit it as fiercely and wildly as he has ever inhabited his own body.

He is not sick anymore.

You have never been.

-

Bull comes to talk to him, which is a surprise.

And then, even more surprising, Bull comes to talk to him often.

And, most surprising of all, Dorian does not move an inch, nor does he bask in the shallow praise the captain lavishes on him like a younger lover. He is suspended, peacefully enveloped in the rumbling tones of Bull’s voice.

He listens to his concerns about the weather, the crew, the shadows trapped in the corners of his own mind. He listens to Bull breathe and move, and for the second time in his life, he wants desperately to shelter another person.

You are, says the Rack.

And that night, the lanterns burn brighter. There’s a song in the rocking of the ship.

Dorian is made of wood and cannot blush, but still he glows.  

-

Dorian is proud, impossibly so, and he cannot keep the smile from his face. Even when the Chargers disembark to stretch their land legs and spend a bit of coin, he can’t seem to stop.

“Oy.” Stitches says. “Wasn’t he frowning before?”

“It’s happened,” Rocky grins. “You’re seeing things.”

“I’m tellin’ you, he was frowning.”

“Impossible,” Krem snickers. “Chief’d never bring home a boy who wasn’t smiling.”

But he is nervous, Dorian knows.

Because Krem is smart and observant, and he looks back when they’ve walked a ways away. And because he catches the twitch of Dorian’s outstretched arms.

They won’t believe him, the Rack tries to placate him.

But the idea makes Dorian sad.

-

Their next engagement is less painful.

Dorian was ready for the raw sensation of it, the fire running through the lines of rigging like blood through veins he no longer possesses.

Dorian is prepared, but in the dead of the night with Grim lulled to sleep in the crow’s nest by the soft rocking of the ship and the waves, the Chargers are not. The enemy peppers them with gunfire that would sink a lesser (and, admittedly, non-sentient) vessel, but the curse has evidently not negated Dorian’s considerable abilities.

The ship shivers under his protective barrier, and he feels thanks wash over him like the summer breezes in Qarinus. The Chargers rise with pounding, steady hearts, and they are his more than last time, more than ever as they hurry to the deck to see ‘exactly what the fuck’ that was.

A warship. The Rack would spit if it could, but it is a very well-mannered vessel, well-equipped with many conveniences, none of which are a tongue. Kill it.

‘We will.’

Kill it.

But the Chargers are just hitting the deck now, gawking at the shimmering barrier separating them from a worrying number of bullets.

“What in the Void?” Stitches spits, because he does have a tongue.

The Rack is very proud, and Dorian huffs.

“Who did that?!” Bull shouts—afraid, not afraid, disturbed by the unannounced use of magic around his crew—and Dorian is tempted to shout at him to worry about that later.

He shivers under the strain of maintaining his focus when everything is so open and real and he gives up being a well-behaved carving quickly enough.

He was never quite as handy with barriers as he was with certain...other talents.

He can feel Grim stumble and issue a colorful streak of language when the first massive gout of flame wreathes from The Bull’s Rack to whatever nameless little tinderbox thought it a fine idea to fire on their crew.

Bring them. The Rack urges, because through Dorian, it can feel the souls of those far below calling up, calling out.

“You think they’re scared stiff now, they’ll shit themselves if the dead start swimming.” Dorian growls, and it is the first time he has spoken in months. They are not moving. He needs them to move.

And, before he really knows what’s happening, he shifts in place.

We will hold you! Go, go, go!

Dorian feels the wood shift as he moves, bolstering him up as he climbs to the railing. He braces himself upon the deck by his elbows and frowns at the Chargers as one might at a group of misbehaving children.

“Well?!” He hisses. “Am I meant to do this on my own?”

To their credit, they make it to their proper places in record time.

But not before Dalish throws a bolt of energy at him.

It stings.

It stings worse than gunfire, worse than his father’s curses.

But still, the fire pours from him until he slinks back to his position and waits. The warship sinks, the waves grow quiet as the ship grows quiet as the night continues on.

He waits, but no one comes.

He waits until he sleeps.

The Rack will stand guard.

-

Grim is the first to come to him, in the middle of the night, two days later. He lies on his belly, arms resting on the very edge of the deck, and studies Dorian intently.

Dorian tries to be still for a few moments, but Grim is patient and Dorian is tired. He lowers his arms and looks up at the other man.

Grim waves.

Dorian blinks, and waves back.

Grim reaches out to hold Dorian’s hand, and just...stays there.

“Heard you singing.” Grim says.

And this time, Dorian’s relief washes over the Rack. The sails buzz with energy. In the chill of night, the deck is warm. Grim falls asleep there, and nothing assails him.

-

One by one, they come to him.

Stitches is bitter, but quick enough to forgive.

Krem is angry, but not so cruel as to blame him for...well, all of this.

Rocky and Dalish both think this is all great fun, and Skinner is surprisingly unbothered by it all. Wooden isn’t much better than flesh, as far as humans go, he supposes.

The Iron Bull is the holdout.

Dorian does not peek behind the flicker of his candle, does not reach out to warm his cabin, does not so much as send a breeze sighing over his skin.

He waits, and eventually, the Bull comes to him.

-

“So, the boys tell me you didn’t enchant me into buying you.”

“I didn’t. That was down to poor taste and alcohol. I suspect the latter more than the former.”

“Hey, I’d say my taste is pretty all right. You’re not ugly or anything.”

“Be still my—well, no…” Dorian sighs.  

Bull laughs, but Dorian does not. “Er, yeah. You’re actually pretty…” He lets out a heavy sigh and sits on the deck with a soft thud. “It’s pretty damn strange to have wet dreams about a statue.”

Dorian is quiet for a few moments, letting that spark of real pleasure race through his body and then down the length of the ship before settling in his belly. “Technically, I’m a carving.”

“Really? I’d say you’re more statuesque.”

“I’ve been told this profile ought to be cast in marble.”

“Too right.”

“You aren’t frightened of me?”

“Oh, no. Yeah. Scared shitless. All that demon-y shit, but—”

“Did you just refer to magic in its entirety as ‘demon-y shit’?”

There’s a distant, hissing, ‘Oooooh’ from Dalish, but she quiets when Bull shoots her a Look.

“Nah. Just the turning people into talking figurines parts.”

“I don’t believe any demons were involved, though I suppose that would be undue charity on my part.”

“But you’ve been with us a while, and it’s pretty obvious you’ve been keeping us safe.” He runs his thumb over the wood of the deck, and the Rack shares it with him because It’s yours. “Plus, I’m pretty sure I could take ya in a barnacle fight.”

Dorian is silent.

“Oh, come on. That one was good!”

“No, it wasn’t.”

But Dorian feels awake in a new way, with the open sky and the lapping water, and the feel of Bull settled warm and solid on his back.

-

Bull’s visits resume, but now Dorian gets to respond.

Gets to talk to him for hours.

Gets to keep these secrets not because Bull is unaware they’re shared, but because he wants to share them.

Bull’s hand comes closer and closer to the edge, and Dorian’s flesh—or his bark, or whatever he’s made out of now—is eager and waiting for touch.   

Bull’s fingers make contact, and Dorian feels as if his chest is open for the ocean air to spill in and fill him up. Impossibly, inevitably blue.

-

“You moved, right?”

“I can, to an extent.”

“Need to make some repairs. D’you think you could give me a hand?”

“Are you using me for cheap labor?”

“And convenience. Don’t forget convenience.”

“Do you see how he treats me, Krem?!”

Krem rolls his eyes and calls, “Pretty sure he’d replace me with a good, strong mule if it could run inventory.”

“Not true!” Bull laughs. “I’d at least hold out for a team of ‘em to hoist that maul of yours.”

Krem makes a rude hand gesture, and Dorian laughs. By the time he finishes and looks to Bull again, the soft smile has not disappeared from those thin lips.

“You up for some menial work?”

“Yes.” Dorian says. “And thank you.”

“What for?”

“The Rack has been sore. This will help.”

“Wait, you can—”

But Dorian is already off toward the place where the ship has been quietly hurting, already part of an echoing circuit of pleased acknowledgement. The ship supports and cradles him, and he feels so impossibly light.

His arms no longer hurt.

The sheet around his hips feels almost like silk again.

-

One night, they set up a card game near the bow, and Bull comes to the gap where they’ve removed a bit of railing so that Dorian might pop up to say hello.

Or judge them.

It’s anyone’s guess, really.

Bull kneels in the gap and reaches down like a proper gentleman, albeit one missing fingers, to help Dorian up.

Dorian takes the offered hand and moves his right leg, waiting for the strange shift of wood and what was once muscle to carry him upward, but it does not come. Instead, his leg—his leg!—draws free of the hull and hangs in empty space.

He grasps Bull’s arm tight, but does not cry out. It’s too much to cry out. The sudden shift in his weight, and—

And Bull thinks he’s playing. The great fool chuckles softly and pulls him up, up, up and free and then Dorian is falling against him, his skin softening, and the sheets loosening before falling at his feet in a useless, expensive pile.

Bull catches him, thunderstruck and blinking like a newborn nug. “You...legs?”

“Me legs.” Dorian breathes, and then they’re falling to the deck while the Chargers whoop and holler. He scrambles over Bull’s legs, into his arms and presses kisses everywhere he can reach.

The Rack vibrates with joy, and he hasn’t lost that connection. He hasn’t.

They’re together, they’re free.

And they’re home.       

-

“Bull,” Dorian murmurs, some days later, against the warm grey of Bull’s skin. The dawn light is just peeking in through the window, edging over the deep blue-black of the sea.

The Rack giggles, knowing and waiting and loving it all so dearly.

Bull grunts, still enjoying the ability to sleep in with a warm body in his arms and not attached to the bow of his ship. “Mmmm?”

“How would you like to help me...with my ‘morning wood’?”

Bull laughs so hard Skinner spits curses from the next room, and muffles it with his teeth in Dorian’s shoulder.

But that big, broad palm slides down between his legs and around his cock and blearily Bull jokes, “Look, no splinters.”

And Dorian is alright with that.

[yeartwovfx]

Evaluation of Robot Unit

The easiest way for me to write this review is for me to run through step by step explain the way I did my project start to finish. Every step also has blog posts to be able to go backwards to and see how things went if this is something you would like to look deeper into.

 Firstly, I would like to say to anyone who is thinking of learning Maya and starting the process from beginning to end. You should go and learn every step before beginning well at least look into them and find out the small things beforehand. I only say this because there were quite a few different stages where I got to the next step and instantly my thoughts were. ‘I wish I knew that beforehand’ to me it was a very important process to stick to how they would do this professionally as you will have noticed last year and from the start of my entire journey I have been fixated on learning everything the professional way as my main intention is to look for a job and to gain the required experience and knowledge.

With that being said in this review I am going to go over Modelling, Rigging/Skinning, UV Mapping/Texturing, Animating and Rendering all in Maya and then I will give a small review of my work involving filming and then editing in After Effects and Premiere Pro.

 Starting point. Ideas. Design ideas and references, Story boarding

 After receiving our unit brief, I was excited to find out that we would be doing 3D modelling in Maya as this is something I have been wanting to learn. Instantly I wanted to work through every step that a professional would. First thing is first I needed to think about my target audience which after looking at the types of robots I like and different references I came up with the age of 15+ after this I started doing different drawings and asking people in my class what they thought, what could be improved and what should be completely removed. After some feedback and about 4-5 different attempts at the body parts I managed to put together a final design. The reason to doing this is to make sure I get something that hits my target audience along with being able to take my design into Maya and use it as a guide for the modelling of my robot. I was told by one of my classmates that I should keep the aesthetics very similar throughout the whole robot for instance if I had a rounded head I would need to have a rounded body, rounded shoulders/Arms etc. I showed him my design after taking his advice out board and got told that it should work well with the age group I am trying to reach. Next it was time to storyboard. This is where I did some rough sketches of what came up in my mind and what I was hoping to get from my outcome. I can say that this is not the case but I am not disheartened as I am still impressed with my outcome and I believe the reasoning for me not being able to follow the storyboard was just because I wanted a smooth video rather than something that could of made my robot look worse off. I believe this to be the case because I am not the best videographer so my video would of came out very choppy next time I might be able to get the assistance of someone who is very experienced in filming I will ask for them to help with the storyboard and then for them to assist me in executing the video this way anything I do with my 3D project it will be a result of my modelling and not the video quality.

 Opening Maya first time, learning basics, Learning difference between sculpting and modelling. Steps of modelling rounding it

 This is where I got into my element. I dove right in and began learning all the shortcuts. These are essential. The first thing I noticed was a problem was the whole of this programme would need to use a mouse. Off I went to buy a wireless one just to make everything that little bit easier. I learnt the basics of how to get around this programme in a matter of hours which I guess is pretty good. Now I am not saying I know everything because every day I am learning more and more and the more knowledge of this programme the better. Every time I hit an obstacles, I noticed fairly quickly that I was not the only one everyone my course hit the same issues then after a quick search of the internet people had hit them too. No need to worry because every time there was a problem, I found someone online teaching me the best steps around this which I will now be able to take through with me for future projects. I started off by getting a cube or a sphere and attempting to sculpt them into faces. Let me just say here. Sculpting is not the easiest to do and everyone that uses sculpting on there projects opts to not use Maya as the tools do not work perfectly shall I say. I guess you could learn to use them but apparently there is easier was around this. I found that if I took the front of my drawn robot image and the back of it then put them into my project made sure that when I was in was in front view I would only see half off my robot then when in the back view I would see the same side but from behind what this allowed me to do was create the full one side of my robot considering it would be a symmetrical robot I would then be able to just copy and flip it over to the opposite side. I found that I was able to add edge loops what this allowed me to do was put extra faces into my project giving me the ability to position the mould of my body parts where I wanted them. At this point everything looked very pointy but with the simple push of a number on the keypad I was able to put everything into a curved look which definitely in this case made my robot look more pleasing to the eye. At this point I found someone on YouTube teaching me a lot of the basics in modelling a robot his account name was Spidey406 I found that everything he was telling me seemed as if it was hard to understand and first but after spending time experimenting it got so much easier. In his videos he was creating a very basic robot which I used as a reference to create my robot which meant doing things a lot different to his videos but using hit tips and tricks to progress in my project.

After I got to a stage of thinking I had created half the chest I then ‘duplicate special’ the finished part what this allowed me to do was create an exact copy but already flipped and put in place for me. I then grabbed the target weld tool all the faces and moulded the two-chest half’s together to give 1 fully finished chest piece.

I did the exact same with almost every body part but I did find a few issues with doing it this way and after a while I actually ended up looking for inspiration on the rest of the project from another 3d modeller and this person called themselves 3Dex I will come back to him later when I used his videos for the other parts of my project. Anyway carrying on with the issues I had when modelling this way. When I attempted to duplicate special the head it created indents, so I had to spend a lot of time grabbing each individual point to mould them together. I also found out that when I attempted to create the shape of the face as this was my first time doing this I had accidently combined two shapes together giving the problems of having many faces inside my robots head. The reason this was a problem was because I was attempting to work at high standards where as I could have ignored this and pretended like it wasn’t there, I wanted to make sure it was created in a way of being correct.

At this point I cut my loses and started again. I realised that there was so many little mistakes that I was going to go back to the beginning and I ended up remodelling my entire robot with less polygon faces to make sure everything would look smoother. This also helps when it comes to UV mapping which I did not know anything about at this point in time. After all of the little issues I had hit previously I found it rather simple to recreate my robots outer model.

Putting on a rig for the first time, joints, parenting, hip, IK handles compared to FK handles. Preferred point, rotation of joints. Adding controls and then animating.

 Now that I have my robot modelled and in place I needed to rig so after combining everything together I found out that most rigs should be done with your model in a T-pose. I had to jig the position of my model to be able to do this which wasn’t too hard to do but was a bit of a pain. From now on I will be drawing them this way and creating them like this too so that it makes things that little bit easier. Once everything was in the correct position, I didn’t find too many issues from hear on out.

Starting with rigging, I learned how to rig which was quite easy once I got the hang of it. Basically everything runs from parents in this case the main area to parent everything to is the hip, this is because if you move your hip in real life it moves both of your legs so rigging works exactly the same as bones. Everything is run through joints, spines and skeleton. I’ve on learned how to use this for a human type shape so I’m not sure how this would work with other things which is something I will be very interest to learn. The way things work with the human type body shape is as follows;

Hip>Top of leg> Knee>Ankle>heel>Toe Tips.

Shoulder>Elbow>Wrist>Centre of hand> Fingers (each having three joints).

Spine>Clavicle>Arm

Spine>neck>Chin>Centre Head>Top Head

Spine>Hip

At the end they all connect back to each other through the spine or the hip but these two are the main parents for the top half and then the bottom half of the body. After fully connecting these parts I had the option to add in either IK handles or FK handles you can add both but in my case IK handles were the best option. IK handles are a limb as such what it does is allows you to choose the top join of an area then the bottom joint of the area for instance if I was to choose the top of the arm then the wrist it would allow me to move the wrist and all the joints in the middle will automatically move for me where as FK handles mean that you would need to move each individual join singularly but allowing you to group them up. Depending on the circumstance you will choose what type of kinematics would be best for you. After doing this you need to rotate every joint to make sure the Y axes is in the direction you want your joints to bend and I found that if it is the elbow or the knee join you want to bend forward then you need to move the joint further in the direction you want it the bend hold right click it the choose preferred angle this means that when you grab the handle end and move it in then it will bend in that direction and not look strange. Once you have everything in the position you want it you need to make sure that it is all exactly how you want it, next you want to highlight you entire project press skeleton then bind skin this means when you bend a joint the mesh of your object with bend like skin to make sure there is a smooth look between everything.  I will say it is very hard to come back and change this in my case I was able to go backwards and unbind the skin to change the directions of the joints as the script I used didn’t change all of the joints into the correct direction I was lucky that I found the issue fairly soon after binding the skin to the joints. There is an option to orientate the joints with the skin bound but this only works once per joint then you need to do select it again this is a pain because it is very time consuming which I came to find out so in my case I found it more time effective to just unbind the entire skin recheck all my joints orientations then bind the skin back together. The reasoning to binding the skin is to give the viewing a smooth watch which is good for the audience as no one wants to watch something that is very choppy and jumpy. Lastly with the rigging before animation you need to give your project controls. This makes the entire next process so much easier to grab and move. I found controls extremely useful because once you have allowed everything to be editable again you can grab the control which is outside of created object easy and you can move it without needing to worry about grabbing the wrong thing then displacing it.

To animate in Maya I found it as simple as doing it in any other programme I have previously used for this there is automatic smoothing between the two keyframes so it was as simple as putting the robot into one position going forward x amount of frames then moving it again in my case I moved the robot every 5 frames to give a smooth look to everything and there is not much for the programme to mess up through its automated process but at the same time it cut my workflow down. I used 248 frames to be able to receive a longer animation but also be able to get that easy to watch flow between the whole movement of the robot without needed to squeeze it into one small sequence.

 Texturing

 In my case I used texturing as a format for ease of use with the mistakes throughout the process of creating my robot rather than not being able to visible see these till the end. So as much as it seems simple from what I have learned so far to add in a texture to a model I noticed that you need to create your initial robot in such a way to give you a nicely fit UV map and this is something that I will be learning to do with my next project in Maya. This was a huge stumble for me which actually ended up stopping me from getting the look I would of ideally given to my robot. I wanted to give my robot a rustic look but this was not possible because after I had gotten to a stage to add a texture when I attempted to add in a third party texture it just stretch the colours and made them look completely wrong this is because where my mesh had too many faces it needed to try and extend the texture image throughout the UV faces but in my case this didn’t work for my original concept which resulted in me giving a shiny grew full material to my entire robot. Luckily for me this made my wrong look great for the background I used as a stage to add my robot too but in the professional world this Is not something I will be able to do which I understand yet I also understand this is an area I need to develop further knowledge which I am hoping to build together by the end of the course.

 Rendering

 The last step in Maya is rendering. This is not something I was impressed with because I cannot get round how I think if you are creating something in a 3D world you should be able to render it as a 3D object that you will still be able to move and position accordingly in the case of using Maya you had to export everything from the view of a camera into exported images that run a sequence to look like a 3D moving object.

After effects and premiere pro, shadowing, blur, colour grey, rotation and position. Feedback, adjustments and sound.

 I exported my Maya project as 248 IFF files what that means it when I import the first picture it pulls all 248 images in as one group as well as giving them a completely transparent background. I liked this format because it allowed me to get my project from one programme to the other with ease and with keeping it very precise to how I had created it. After that I attempted to attach the three videos, I had taken with a DSLR but due to my lack of ability with filmography I did not like the look and feel these three videos would have given to my audience. In my opinion they would of given the sense of amateur work and no one would have been able to connect with my final outcome. This made me change my video to one short video shot with a hand-held camera that paned around the room allowing me to put my robot into the scene and give the audience something to not look away from and indulge themselves into the short scene. Once I had both my assets in after effects, I took the filmed scene then 3D tracked the plane giving the tracking markers I was able to stick the 3D robot onto the edge of the laptop giving the illusion that I was already there. After this I tried to add in a light, ticking the cast shadow box I thought it would be fairly easy to give my robot a robot that would reflect onto the video behind but in face this did not work at all it just either gave more light to the front of my robot or none at all so it went dark. I didn’t like this because it made me realise that the two scenes were not actually together, so it isn’t possible to just cast a shadow off something that isn’t real to the scene. My illusion of my own scene just disappeared! Now this meant I would need to gey my audience to believe like it is actually in my scene to do this I would need to create a fake casted shadow that pulled everything together and made it look real to do this I duplicated my robot then used the gaussian blur effect to distort the look and lowered the opacity, after this I used fill mask to change the entire colour to a dark grey. I didn’t choose to use black because such a solid dark colour would make things look less believable to the viewer so grey was the choice. Combining the blue with the colour then rotating and position the duplicate moving it to the layer underneath my original robot this made a shadow effect appear now because my duplicate was animated I needed to attach the feet to the original robots feet using key frames then positioning and rotation more to keep it in the correct place I was able to cast a shadow into the scene to make it look real. I thought I was finished… I exported out then showed my video to 3 people in my class effectively an audience to gain some feedback there two bits of feedback I go given were that the footage and final video was unstable and needed sound to make it believable so I went back to the drawing board put my scene into premiere pro and then used the effect warp stabiliser this made my footage look less shaky now to add in some sound. This was fairly easy I found a bit of robot noises from the internet then added them together in premiere and made my robot sound as if it was turning on and off then when it moved it would also make a mechanical sound to make it sound like it was attempting to move I exported again and showed me work to the same 3 people from my class they said that after taking there feedback on board I had finally managed to create something that looked believable and up to a semi-professional standard this made me feel like I had reached my original goal.

 References of YouTubers.

Spidey406

(2015) ‘ How to model in Maya - Maya Modeling Tutorial - Robot Model’ YouTube. Available from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o7uEaWHR3bE [Accessed 1st October 2018]

3dEx

(2018) ‘Autodesk Maya 2018 - Character Rigging (Part 1 of 3)’ YouTube.Available from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cOokoFED7QE [Accessed 5th November 2018]

(2018) ‘Autodesk Maya 2018 - Character Rigging (Part 2 of 3)’ YouTube.Available from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWrKiOKuK4o [Accessed 11th November 2018]

(2018) ‘Autodesk Maya 2018 - Character Rigging (Part 3 of 3)’ YouTube.Available from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AK34DUULP6I [Accessed 17th November 2018]

[fashiontrendin-blog]

Paris Fashion Week Is a Real Slog When You’re As Important As I Am

http://fashion-trendin.com/paris-fashion-week-is-a-real-slog-when-youre-as-important-as-i-am/

Paris Fashion Week Is a Real Slog When You’re As Important As I Am

I have been to several Paris Fashion Weeks and have reported on my experience as a novice. Now, as a seasoned veteran, I worry the viewfinder I held aloft was rose-colored, indeed. What was once a mythical fairyland of swirling scarves, perfectly puffed pastries and glitzy dinner parties twinkling on past midnight has withered to a nightmarish hellscape: desperate vendors cramming their shoes onto my feet, upstart bloggers screaming for me, paparazzi flashbulbs scarring my pupils.

In the midst of such a cacophony, I find myself wondering: When in my meteoric rise to the dizzying heights of the fashion world will the sun finally burn too hot? I long for the day I may lose my feathers like Icarus, free-fall back to Earth and walk down the street with a beret and baguette unbothered.

As I prepare to leave for the airport, I notice my puffy coat is leaking little tufted feathers out of a hole near my wrist. Recognizing the heavy-handed symbolism, I become terrified and apply a dollop of Gorilla Glue to the hole, effectively stopping the insulation exodus.

Wednesday, February 28th

Shortly after arriving in Paris, my stylist a.k.a. girlfriend a.k.a. editor-in-chief of InStyle asks about the bird shit on my arm. I patiently explain the tear, the leak, the solution. She sends me off to get a new coat.

A breezy expenditure of $80 at Uniqlo will get you this gender-neutral, puffy hooded coat that offers a pleasing assortment of pockets.

For sustenance, I order poulet paillard, which is French for “chicken that looks like a chicken.”

This poor hen stepped sideways into the path of a guillotine. Haughty, but delicious. Afterward, I can feel my grip on reality slipping, so I take a nap and wake up just in time for dinner, which I eat and then go back to bed.

Thursday, March 1st

I am no longer 26 years old and my body does not spring forward into new time zones as spryly as it once did. I wake up at 1 p.m., just in time to bathe and head off to see the Dries Van Noten collection. After being jostled through security and beginning to wonder if maybe I should just go drink a bottle of wine on a Seine tourist cruise, my spirits lift considerably upon finding a familiar face:

Harper’s Bazaar’s Glenda Bailey, a fearless woman who makes her own way and makes me feel like I can too.

Then the lights go up, the chatter dies down and for seven minutes I forget myself and remember why I do what I do. You need only do a minor amount of research to find professional runway photographs of these looks, but what those images fail to capture — and what mine communicate brilliantly — is how little time one has to look at each outfit as the models march by. I’ve highlighted a few of my favorites:

The solid color of the below-left top matches the hue of the detail on the skirt, mirroring the layered duality of the mind-body relationship.

Note how the fabric does not cling tightly but dangles and dances with a motion of its own — suggesting that our own identities are not hewn from stone and shackled to our shoulders but hover all around, knowable only for a moment before shifting once more.

The above-right one looks like Morpheus from The Matrix. Because we’re probably living in a simulation.

I liked this below-left one because of the soft colors…

…and because the model demonstrates why this accessory is called a clutch.

The feathered boa above-right offers one possibility for how the dinosaurs actually looked. I always had a hunch the stegosaurus was a flashy bugger, not that drab, gray-brown galumph my textbooks force-fed me.

Technically, this is a bag.

But it would be more accurate to call it a sack. No Wookiees were harmed in the making of this sack.

Bravo, Dries! Glenda and I bid a fond farewell to each other after I tell her “I liked the feathery bits,” then I head to an appointment with Aquazzura.

The brilliant minds there had these boots made for me, but I know I have no spare room in my suitcase and that they’d render me clumsy in the TSA line, so I have to say, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

In hindsight, I guess I could have chucked a pair of sweatpants to make room. Oh well.

I wind up ordering poulet paillard again for a late lunch (too tired to make a new decision) and, whether or not you think the man is an effective President, you cannot deny:

Garçon, there’s a hairpiece on my food.

Friday, March 2nd

The next day, I take a break from the shows to peruse the Louvre. I greatly enjoy — nay, require as though ‘tis oxygen — being amongst the art. While I wander its labyrinthine halls, the throngs of tourists fade to static and I feel like I am actively communing with some of the great minds humankind has produced throughout the ages. I listen to what they have to say, then use my smartphone to capture the old masters’ stories as they resonate today.

Expending this level of psychic energy is uniquely exhausting, and when I’m at my weakest, I always crave the same thing: a burger. When I sit down at a restaurant and find that the beef tartare, which is far fancier than a burger, is the same price, I order that instead:

I do not know who the pervert in the kitchen is or why he or she interrupted the sacred ritual of a caperberry attempting to fertilize a hen egg. Later, I realize the only difference between beef tartare and a burger is that tartare is not cooked, so truthfully it should have been cheaper than the burger. I make a note to send a letter requesting a partial refund.

Saturday, March 3rd

Back on the fashion grind: I have an appointment with Aurélie Bidermann, who of course wants to adorn me with her wares. I turn down the gifts, as I confess I do not enjoy possessing jewelry. I find its value far too tempting to thieving rascals and terrifyingly concentrated relative to its size (and, therefore, lose-ability). All possessions are of course burdensome and the nature of “possession” illusory in itself, but jewelry crystallizes this notion. For me, looking is enough.

First of all: How much better is the French version of the word “jewelry”?

It makes the Anglo “jewelry” look like it means “toe fungus.”

And look at this ruby- and emerald-inlaid shell pendant.

I’m only sharing this one picture because most of the ones I took were inadequate/marred by glare. But I believe Aurélie’s joaillerie should be strapped to a rocket and launched into orbit so that in the event of humanity’s self-immolation, it will survive, and when aliens discover our planet, they will first discover these items orbiting above our charred and grown-over remains and they will know that there was beauty here.

Next, I go to the Altuzarra show, which is taking place in the celebrated Parisian restaurant La Coupole and is uniquely visible to the curious public assembled out on the street.

My photography once again captures how quickly the models pass by and how little time I had to form an opinion about each outfit, even though my expert mind of course generates such opinions at lightning speed.

Look at how the evening gown below swishes to and fro as the model makes her turn. This one left a lasting impression on the judges for sure.

Another one is purple and has a slit, which exposes the leg.

The shoes are also purple. I liked the earrings, which you can’t really see clearly, but they looked like a bit like that viral video from a while back of a guy using molten metal to make a mold of an ant colony.

After, I feel spent and also a bit ill, so I lay low for the rest of the day in preparation for my big fashion finale: Valentino.

Sunday, March 4th

I don’t want to risk fainting during the show, so I make sure to eat a balanced breakfast.

(I stood on the bed in my underpants to take this and almost fell on top of the table. Honestly, the things I risk for you guys.)

Valentino has built a structure near L’Hôtel des Invalides specifically for the show. When Anna Wintour sees me, she rushes over and gives me a huge hug and we gossip for a bit, but unfortunately we don’t take a picture together as we normally do. I snapped the one above a bit later just to give you a taste.

Can’t wait for our tennis date, Anna!

This row of girls across from me keeps looking over at me, giggling and pointing and blushing. Sorry, ladies, this is a business trip.

But seriously, there was an actual humming sound coming from their collective social media following.

Then the show started. Below are some of my favorites, but really the collection as a whole was my favorite.

…as Karlie looks on, poised as ever.

The above-right one is just layered so beautifully.

The man in front of me was involved in planning the show and got very upset when somebody nearby leaned out to take pictures. Not me, somebody else.

The human peony:

The green one is good luck should you find it while prancing through a field of clover.

This show transported me and reawakened in me a hope — a hope that we are all beings awaiting some form of pollination, capable of transformation, of one day entering a mode of existence beyond our current understanding.

I try to make a surreptitious exit but once again the photographers call for me to stop and pose. The ladies below leapt in front in a somewhat embarrassing attempt to get themselves plastered on Getty Images. NICE TRY, DESPERADOS.

Afterward, my favorite thing: breakfast for lunch.

Café Saint-Régis, you have my heart.

Au revoir, Paris! Thank you for rekindling my passion for fashion.

Photos via Brandon Borror-Chappell.