#i haven't actually drawn him in armor much

[sesamenom]

first part of a maglor themed triptych

[itstimeforstarwars]

I would love to see a doodle of Derry. Love that guy. He gives zero fucks about gendered terms

[ID in alt text]

Everyone knows which scrubs belong to Derry, because they're the only ones with the Red Planet logo on them. Everyone also knows which scrub caps are Derry’s, because he lets his 12-year-old pick them out, and he ends up with a drawer full of tooka-patterned caps.

[cossmoluck]

FINALLY finished this

turns out soon means one week+ in my little lizard brain, that's cool

anyways!!! meg

megalo don content,,, food

also, as a treat for making myself take so much to finish this, some of my AU lore rambling thing under the cut (warning, pretty long)

in my design, most of his exterior Nitro armor is removable, being an extension of the augument inside his body, which pumps Nitro both through his lungs and bloodstream, crossing from front to back through his torso. His tubes would be attached to certain openings around his body, which could also have 'lids' put on for safe closing. Every area where the Nitro pumps directly into his body would have 'Nitro burn'- a less proeminent glow than the one in his fueled up form. I, as many others also do, like to think that his mask actually comes off (I haven't drawn him unmaksed yet, but I'll get to that too eventually). One headcanon I have is that when you take his medallion in game, what you take is actually his mask and use it.

For his body I went for a slightly leaner strongman build, as he doesn't seem way too bulky in his non-fueled form, but he's still considerably bigger than most others. I tried to give him a 'scarred shark' look, and gave him burn scars on one arm from a misfiring Nitro Fist hit accident

also his hair look so so fluffy in game and for WHAT

(note, this is all to be taken as an AU. i am by no means well versed enough in Fortnite lore to make something close to canon or actual on point headcanons lol,,, tl;dr at the bottom!!)

i feel like the whole theory with Meg and big chuggus being somehow related is true, but not necessarily in the way others present it usually i don't think they're snapshots of each other in any way, i just think that they've been basically created 'for the same purpose', maybe in the different 'realities?' I'm not 100% sure how the zero point reset worked considering Midas was technically the same and all

so let's say Chaos had created the Slurp legends and Slurp creatures back during the GHOST/SHADOW conflict i like to think that Meg might have been created sometime during then too- a more refined variant of the technology used on big chuggus, enough for him not to end up as brain dead as big chuggus himself (sorry big chuggus)

Megalo Don could have been a fleet leader for the naval forces, as he has an overall very reoccurring military theme with his insignia and stuff. Maybe he was hired by Chaos to aid him and willingly allowing Chaos to modify him into the 'perfect leader', boosted by slurp into near perfection I believe his Oasis style would be what his 'original' look was, with Slurp coursing through his pumps instead of Nitro

so how did he turn into the Meg we know? during the GHOST/SHADOW conflict, his crew got destroyed, probably, and they somehow ended up punished to the Pandora's Box, but not dead like Midas, just punished there I like to think that there is not only one Pandora's Box, technically, and that they're basically some sort of even higher security 'prison' for things deemed disasters under certain circumstances, putting mortal beings into their own personal hell. The ones imprisoned in the Pandora's Box arent necessarily 'dead', like shade Midas in the Underworld, but they're not alive in the full sense either. This particular Nitro filled Pandora's Box sprouted there, leaving behind veins of pure Nitro in the depths of the earth through which the Box had erupted.

in the Pandora's Box, stuck in an infinite purgatory loop of fighting and dying, the slurp that fueled his crew quite literally rotted into Nitro, and Megalo Don himself basically 'rusted' from the rot. The Nitro, essence of death, in a way, compared to Slurp, slowly and surely altered Meg's brain, turning him from a calculated leader into a terrifying tyrant, with nihilistic views regarding his crew and conquest, as he saw them all die over and over again… Another case of 'rotten' slurp beings being Sludge, maybe, as he could perhaps be read as a Slurp creature gone 'bad' (slurp to nitro)

Meg's mind got clouded with the only thing he could comprehend anymore- Nitro coursing through his veins, through his ship, through anything in the living hell he experienced in the Pandora's Box. (Ultrakill flesh prison sounding aah) Obtained by conquest or murder, with destruction being the only method he could even comprehend using to get it, his very life seeming to depend on Nitro at that point, and being released into the world again brought him bo purpose than to seize back all of his Nitro and keep fighting more and more

after he and his crew escaped from the Pandora's Box, Meg had intercepted a boat droning the Island from SHADOW, which had went to scout out Helios after Midas' escape from The Underworld, unaware of the Pandora's Box opening right then, and getting caught in the sandstorm. Meg had just the luck to capture Chaos (or a snapshot), the very man who had taken away his humanity and turned him into a (now) Nitro-fueled beast. From them he also took the island plans, which helped his crew settle in as fast as they did, the Redline Rig digging for Nitro the very moment they got there and the Nitrodrome building itself over the abandoned Fencing Fields, repurposing the fizz machinery there into the dome's car destruction traps

i also like to think that Meg has a father/daughters bond with Scarr and the Machinist, with the Machinist maybe being one of the original scientists on Chaos' team, whom had helped him stabilize his new equipment at the time, and Scarr being a dedicated member of his fleet since before getting banished into the Pandora's Box. Initially, both Scarr and the Machinist would have admired him for his courageous leadership and respected him as a leader, but through their decline in the Pandora's Box, their found family bond only strengthened, with the two of them being probably his only subordinates he actually cares about

i also like to imagine that he had made most of the transmissions particularly silly in hopes of having them tune in on either patrol or at the Nitrodrome and make them laugh with the over the top commentary

tl;dr: i headcanon megalo don as an ex-slurp legend made by Chaos who had rotted to nitro in the Pandora's Box. His Oasis style is what he looked like pre-Box. Also the Mechanist and Ringmaster Scarr are his found family daughters

[baileypie-writes]

Hello! My name is Korey! I've recently been seeing your blog pop up whenever I search for veneer stuff and when I tell you I am STARVED for content- (I understand that there might be more content out there but I haven't been able to find any ;-;) I personally love your headcanons and the way you write everything and I was really hoping if you could do a Veneer x Male reader? And don't worry!! I read your rules so I have a basic idea for the story!!! You can do headcanons or a one-shot, either one works!!!

So; Masc!Reader is like a tall intimidating guy that dresses rather formally, often in reds whites and blacks. HOWEVER! They are SUCH a softy. Like, they have the voice that could scare anyone but they love stuffed animals and like dressing up in cute animal onesies!!!

When Veneer first met this gentleman, Reader would often keep to himself at first because he didn't want to accidentally scare him, but Veneer is immediately head over heels just because he sounds and looks cool. But as soon as the Reader says that they love bunnies and start opening up more he is just SWOONING-

And when Veneer starts ranting about how he thinks Reader is cool to Velvet, she is just; "That guy?? He's terrifying-"

I'm so sorry if I made the request too long, please let me know if you need more info or if you can't do this request! I will definitely understand!!!!

A/N ~ Aww this idea is so cute! Love all the details you added! I decided to do headcanons, cause it’s better for me to get all my thoughts down. Hope you enjoy!

~Veneer with an Intimidating, but Soft Boyfriend~

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Reader: Male

Relationship: Romantic

Genre: Pure fluff

Warnings: None!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ I feel like Veneer is naturally drawn to tough looking guys. So obviously, he likes you the moment you meet. He thought that you were just too cool! He wasn’t scared like most people are, he just wanted to get to know you!

~ When he finds out that you’re actually just a big softy, he falls for you ten times harder. Like, you’re just so cute to him.

~ He’s in love with your voice! He barely texts you, because he prefers calling. He just wants to hear you!

~ You love plushies? Well guess what, you’re now getting a new one every week. Veneer is big on spoiling you, so be prepared to not have any room left on your bed. Plushies everywhere!

~ Veneer buys you guys matching animal onesies. Multiple sets, in fact. Each with a different color and animal theme. His personal favorites are the rainbow unicorn ones.

~ Sometimes he forgets that most people perceive you as scary. He’ll get confused when people are nervous around you, until he remembers how intimidating you look to them. So he tries his best to make people see you as you truly are: kind and caring!

~ He personally loves how you dress formally. He thinks it makes you look so handsome(not that you’re not already). Sometimes he wears the same style so you two match.

~ Veneer sees you as his Prince Charming. His night in shining armor. His soulmate. And he calls you all of these things as nicknames. His sister hates it, thinking it’s super cheesy. But he couldn’t care less.

~ Secretly want you to carry him around bridal style. It adds to the whole Prince Charming thing. If you actually do it, he’ll literally swoon.

~ Veneer loves how much taller you are than him. He loves when you lean down to kiss him, or when he has to stand on his tip-toes to reach your lips.

~ Before she met you, Velvet created an image of you in her head based on what Veneer says about you. Let’s just say that she was surprised when she did meet you. You were definitely not what she was expecting. You? Sweet and soft? How?

~ Velvet is honestly confused on how Veneer isn’t scared of you. She finds you terrifying. She physically jumps when you just ask her a simple question because your voice sounds so scary. Veneer doesn’t get it at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[wreckingtickles]

Link (Legend of Zelda) Headcanons

Cards on the table, I hoped against hope that Hard Time would do better than it did, though I'm really happy that many of the people whose support I value the most seem to have read it! So while I reassess, have some headcanons I didn't post before! Don't worry tho, Izuku is still getting it really soon :-P And I'm still holding out hope for the lees Kiri and Baku story (nearly 1/3rd of the votes in the poll!)

But now it's Leenk time!

Link is so cute I have been playing TotK without any armor just to gawk at him (why I do need to get out more, thank you).

With how much everyone's Link effs around Hyrule so much, Zelda should have him sent to the tickle dungeons and/or let the Gerudo take care of her punishment for an equal amount of time. Though I also kind of ship him with Sidon (yes, I know he's a breeder, and I hope it's clear I'm using that term for "edgy" humor).

By the way, if you haven't, check out @dokidoki-muffin's three Link pieces (some of which may be marked as NSFW) - I've seen very few pieces succeeding at capturing utter ticklish agony as well as this one, and the way the lers' fingers are animated really add to the verbal teasing, it really sells that Link is completely at their mercy and can't do anything about it! This is an incredible precursor and you're under the impression that there are even more hands tickling Link than are actually drawn, and again, it really sells that they're sadistically toying with him. And if you want head-to-toe tickles, there's this piece.

Oh, and how could I forget about our @lovelymessybubbly's own Leenk pieces! This one is a comic with lee Link at the end, but this one if my favorite full-body piece.

Anyway, here's our ticklish hero of Hyrule!

Since I included his ears, I left out a spot where he's not super ticklish imo, and since this headcanon isn't NSFW, you can probably imagine what it is lol

Smiling (4.5-5.5): Link's ribs are a pretty manageable spot, he's not every sensitive there. Light tickles with long fingernails work best here and will get him to scrunch up his face in an extremely adorable way.

Giggling (6-7): Tickling these spots for just a few seconds will force Link to make some kind of sound - generally, very cute titters.

Laughing (7.5-8.5): Link's ears, underarms, sides, hips, thighs, and feet are all pretty ticklish spots! And you may not expect it, but a hard touch works best, except on his ears. Tickling his ears too gently might result in... side effects.

Howling (9-10): Twink's worst spot that will break the silent hero in two seconds flat is his V-line, and if I latched on to those child-birthing hips of his, I wouldn't let go. Scribbling with your fingers tickles way more than he'd expect and results in an endless stream of high-pitched cackling, while digging your thumbs in and massaging the area causes him to freak out, bucking and screaming.

[demoanais]

cut for mentions of unverified leaks, read at your own risk (long)

some plot points have been consistently mentioned from multiple sources but galadriel/sauron duel is usually absent. based on more recent details i've read, i think that's because there's nothing worth spoiling. imagine the easiest safest most obvious scenario, that's what's happening. and it's not the predictability that pisses me off the most, but one specific aspect i find to be a deal-breaker if true.

i originally expected it to go down this way, but i got distracted by 'cosmic connection' nonsense and obvious pandering (total whiplash from post season one interviews, which politely deemed me an idiot).

but if i consider season one again, what was actually happening with galadriel? if you ignore all the tOUcH ThE daRkNEsS mumbo jumbo and focus not on what's being said, but what's being shown.

galadriel's temptation to darkness is mostly superficial. she's obsessed with avenging her brother's murder - practically noble if you squint. she made some faulty assumptions to further her (pretty admirable) goals - she can hardly be blamed for not predicting just-some-guy-halbrand disguise. the sum of her moral agonies amounts to 'my biggest weakness is that i do too much unpaid overtime because i care too much about the company.'

they haven't really shown proof she has this intense deep connection with halbrand or sauron, even if they keep saying she does. her pride was injured so she's frightened about being vulnerable to him, but they haven't identified the underlying kinship they claim exists. and if these leaks are true, that's because there never was one.

she wasn't drawn to him because of a shared ambition for power over others. in fact when he reveals himself, his desire to rule is what makes her certain she's not interested. what made halbrand think she might ever want to be a queen in the first place? nothing, they just wanted him to reference that speech. she was never earnestly flirting with darkness, it was just following her around the grocery store.

in retrospect it could never have been otherwise, because the showrunners said they didn't believe it when one of their writers insisted that people would ship haladriel/saurondriel. it must be a fluke of some discordant decision making.

you know that millisecond shot of halbrand in armor from galadriel's vision? i had a suspicion it was a reshoot based on how it looked. now i'm 99% sure they decided to film it after the fact and hastily edited it in for baiting purposes.

anyways can't wait till october to be let down for good so i can go back to knowing absolutely nothing about l/otr

(yes in the end i am to blame because the only thing from the show i really gaf about was the Most Unholy and Reviled Made Up Ship on earth. congrats to the 'c/eleborn is a cuck' crowd though, enjoy your hate watching i guess)

[yanderes-galore]

Alright. It's a Rojka 'Kasaan (Halo: Envoy) scenario, with the reader being an envoy/diplomat he meets after becoming one himself. Romantic, could lean platonic too.

Sure! I haven't finished the book but I do know the plot as I watched a really good summary twice. I love the views this book shows in Halo lore so I tried my best to keep him in character! One of my favorites for sure! If something is wrong, please help me figure out how to make him more in character! :) Warning, this is lengthy and NOT proofread, I apologize in advance.

I SUGGEST THIS BOOK A TON- Thank you so much for the request :) Here's a summary for those who need some background!

Spoilers for Halo: Envoy (Loose AU after the end of the book)

Fresh Start

Yandere! Rojka 'Kasaan Scenario (Halo: Envoy)

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Human/Sangheili pairing, Obsession, Rojka is getting used to more civilian/envoy life, Dubious companionship, Death mention, Grief, Inner turmoil, Mentions of violence, Possessive thoughts, Dubious relationship, Tame yandere due to the time period (Could probably try to make him worse, idk-), Manipulation mention.

The title of Envoy was much different from his previous title of Kaidon. Rojka didn't mind too much as Melody had shown him how influential the role is in a place like Carrow. Especially if you are still trying to smooth over previous conflicts between two cities.

Rojka had struggled with the less hectic lifestyle at first. Sangheili were not used to negotiations but Rojka had learned a lot. After the whole Carrow Conflict he'd learned there was benefits to working with humans.

He used to hate the species for his homeworld... but vengeance had long since left his mind after working with the Spartans....

His new title as Envoy has taught Rojka how to speak with Sangheili and humans alike. Some were still hesitant about making deals with the other, but some had favored the idea. Rojka wondered if Melody had felt like this with him or any others....

This new job and title had allowed Rojka to meet new people. He became less aggressive when acknowledging others and even met fellow diplomats. Meetings between Suraka and Rak for negotiations were frequent after the whole civil war.

Most of them felt plain to Rojka. Humans and Sangheili speaking amongst each other over political affairs between the two cities. Various topics such as shipments and repairs.

Then Rojka met you, another Envoy sent to oversee these meetings and bring up issues. The Sangheili Envoy was both intrigued about this human yet hesitant. Even months after the conflict he still struggles with his opinions of humans.

Although he did enjoy them more than he did prior due to Melody explaining the similarities of the two species and their issues.

You were human, like most of the diplomats. There were some other Sangheili diplomats but not many. As said before, not all Sangheili preferred negotiations on Carrow.

Despite you being human Rojka found himself drawn to you. The way you held yourself and spoke with authority impressed him despite you being so much smaller than him. You may not be a fighter... but your voice could make many turn heads.

He was initially a bit anxious about how you'd treat him, which was strange for him. Yet when you spoke with him, cranking your neck upwards to meet his gaze, you treated him as you would any other. Negotiations were negotiations, at least in the eyes of politics you were friends.

Rojka could never manage to pry his eyes away from the outfit you wore as an Envoy. He himself wore different armor from his Kaidon days, his head now adorned with a grey crest on his helmet. He wasn't sure why his eyes kept flicking to your outfit....

As diplomats to humanity, Rojka actually talked to you a lot. Most of which was related to your titles and jobs. Occasionally conversation within Suraka between you two would shift to more casual.

Rojka would have issues trying to make his speech more suited for human understanding. You both spoke Sangheili due to the job but sometimes phrasing came off more aggressive than intended. He learned that when he made an offer with Melody... one that put her off for a moment according to her actions.

Rojka never imagined he'd be so interested in a human such as you. Even with Melody he never thought to ask about a human's life. He wasn't expecting you to ask about his.

Luckily you respected him enough not to pry into his history... something he respected. You respected him, too... you liked his motive of peace. He even remembered your words when he told you his purpose for joining as an Envoy.

"I admire that you want best for your people. As an Envoy, it's our goal to maintain such peace times. You made a great choice."

Such simple words from your mouth... but something about how you said it made it stick with him. Rojka learned to observe the similarities and differences between you when he became an Envoy. When it came to you... it made him even more interested.

Part of Rojka hoped that you two could set aside the sins of your species collectively to grow closer. He wasn't sure why he wanted to be so close to you.... It was actually quite the foreign thought of Sangheili and humans being as close as the two of you.

Rojka liked that you two could be considered more than allies. In your words you considered him a "friend". When you said that it made the Sangheili a bit warm.

He liked that you trusted him as not only a fellow diplomat, but a friend. Trust... he always found it hard to come by during the Sangheili civil war on Carrow. Even now he originally struggled with it.

But having such a bond is important to being an Envoy.

Melody and you had opened him up to trust again. It had made him grow into his new title. He... felt very attached to the two humans.

He held Melody in high regard due to her role in the Carrow Conflict. Although you were the human who managed to make him feel... odd. It wasn't just respect he felt towards you.

His feelings felt more akin to how he'd feel towards another of his own. You may be smaller, weaker, softer... that didn't matter to him. He just wish he knew how deep this connection went.

Did he like you like a warrior? Perhaps the feeling was more similar to that of a mate? The thought perplexed him but for a moment it was considered.

Rojka felt inner turmoil when his eyes flicked to you. The Sangheili knew he enjoyed your presence despite not knowing how. He found himself making an effort to appeal to you at times, too.

It was little things. Things that he didn't notice at first. Like when he lowered himself to meet you at eye level or offered to accompany you on diplomatic trips to Rak. At first he thought it was done out of respect, you are small and he knows Rak more than you.

Then the thought of him caring came to mind again.

Was it really that farfetched? He'd always yearned for somewhere to belong, a homeworld to live on... and comrades to care for. After the death of Thars, the traitor, and many others... it wasn't too hard to think he wanted another connection.

You brought out something in him. An urge that drove the Envoy to come closer. Something made him want to... how does he describe it?

The Envoy wasn't sure. Each time you came up to him he felt like he wanted to hold you. Such an action was not common in his species but he had seen other humans do it to show care.

Even as an Envoy the Sangheili showed a desire to defend. Being a diplomat held dangers, like assassins or arguments. Such threats made his mandibles twitch when they were aimed towards you.

While diplomats are not typically armed, he still knew physical contact. It's surprising how fast the Sangheili would shoot from his seat to stand beside you if you were threatened. His thoughts were clear in these moments, he still had a fighting spirit harnessed to defend you.

As a Sangheili it was hard to drop his past of violence. It's in his nature to get a bit hostile towards situations. As a result, Rojka would be on edge if someone mentioned you.

Murder, dishonorable killing, has been something he's refused. But the idea of killing others around you has flashed across his mind more than once. He's kept such thoughts to himself, but seeing other's speak to you makes him grimace.

Rojka wishes he could figure you out. Why do you spark urges within him? You make him yearn for duels and bloodshed in your name... you make him want to pledge himself to you.

While Rojka deals with his emotions you only ever notice his silence. When you do, you take him by the large hand and call his name. Such an act pulls him back into the conversation, yet his gaze is now on the hand engulfed by his own.

Rojka does not regret meeting you. Not in the slightest. You may spark conflicting thoughts within him as a human but he could not bear to let you go. No... Rojka wants you to know you and him are destined.

Someday, Rojka hopes to explore his care for you more. He hopes to never part from you as an Envoy. He hopes he'll never have to give you up, ever, like the most of his brethren.

The thought of his homeworld still brings pain...

"Rojka." Your voice cuts through his thoughts like an Energy Blade. How long had be been... reminiscing?

"...yes?"

"Another moment caught in your thoughts?"

Rojka pauses. Why should he think of any of this now? All that matter now is here and now. All that matters is you...

Oh how he hopes to keep you....

"Yes."

"Care to talk about it in private?"

His mandibles twitch. He couldn't tell you any of this- How would you perceive such emotions? Surely you would be put off by his... obsessive and possessive intentions as of late?

"No..."

"I understand. I do not wish to pry. I am just concerned is all. I can leave you to it if you wish?"

Rojka says nothing. Those words make his thoughts bubble again but he says nothing. All he wants to do is stare.

Clearly... he admires you in some way. He doesn't care how as of now. He slowly begins to accept the fact he likes the idea of you. He likes the idea of being around you. He even tosses around the idea of keeping you to himself someday....

You pull away a bit only for Rojka to reach out and grasp your arm. You pause, looking at his grip. Your eyes then trail up to the face of the Sangheili.

"Stay."

He utters a brief phrase and you comply. You may make him feel complex but he doesn't want to drive you away. In fact... he takes his chance and pulls you close beside his armored body.

He doesn't want you to leave ever, actually...

It's cruel to think but Rojka thinks of ways he can make such thoughts happen. You both have power but he may have more with his connections. If he did want something with you he could always pull a few strings.

The thought makes him a bit sick. How dishonorable. How could he think of such a thing? Why did he want to isolate you? Why did he want to force you to stay with him?

His thoughts are knocked loose again when you shuffle against him. He freezes when he sees you look up and smile. Did he... make you feel similarly?

Yes... this was why he wanted to keep you. You'd make a great alliance. This was why he wanted you to himself.

He doesn't notice himself wrap an arm around you to pull you closer. No one should bother asking what you're doing. He'll silence them.

It's decided... Rojka will do whatever it takes to make you his own.

Even if it means returning to his past of bloodshed... he'll keep up the peace, yet he's keeping you too.

[superman86to99]

The Return of Superman 30th Anniversary Special (November 2023)

Whoa! Some sort of chronal disturbance has thrown us from 1994 to the futuristic year 2023, just in time to cover this new special by the entire creative team behind "Reign of the Supermen"... minus Roger Stern and Dennis Janke, but PLUS Jerry Ordway (who left right before "Reign" started in '93). This is a lot like the Death of Superman special released last year, except that instead of featuring four standalone stories, this one has a framing device uniting all the tales.

In the framing story (written by Dan Jurgens and drawn by Travis Moore), the Cyborg Superman comes back to Metropolis and starts attacking S.T.A.R. Labs installations, as if those places haven't been blown up enough times already. Since Perry White is currently in a coma (from, as far as I can tell, not knowing Superman is Clark Kent), it's up to current Daily Planet editor Lois Lane to put together a story on the Cyborg without her mentor's help. Or with a little bit of her mentor's help, since Ron Troupe conveniently pulls out Perry's old journal from the "Reign of the Supermen" days, including his thoughts about the Cyborg.

So, Lois and Ron start reading Perry's notes about the four Supermen who popped up in Metropolis after Superman's death, which leads us to...

"Speed" (by Louise Simonson and Jon Bogdanove)

Despite the "Perry's notes" framing device, this story is actually told by Ron as he remembers the first time he saw Steel. Ron is leaving for work one morning and everyone in his neighborhood is talking about which of the four Supermen is the real deal. A lady called Mama Bess (who I initially mistook for Myra the Orphanage Lady because she's also big and black and surrounded by little kids) says they're all posers, including Steel, because none of them are around when you need them. Then some gangbangers drive by the neighborhood with a Toastmaster gun, and guess who drops by to save everyone's asses? Not Batman.

Mama Bess recognizes Steel's voice ("rich an' dark as Memphis honey") as belonging to that guy who was running around Metropolis helping people in crumbling buildings while Superman and Doomsday were tearing up the town, as seen in the Death special. While Steel fights the gangbangers, Ron calls Perry, who tells him to keep that lady talking so they can learn as much as possible about the mysterious armored Superman. Hey, is that Mike Carlin in the Planet offices below, to the left of adorably skinny Jimmy Olsen?

Steel prevails over the evildoers and the neighborhood kids rush in to proclaim him as the one true Superman. The best part of the story, for me, is when a little kid picks up a Toastmaster laying on the street and says he can use it to stop the bad guys, but Steel says that's a weapon for bad guys (he'd know, he designed them). Then he replaces it with an old school Game Boy and breaks the gun, Dark Knight Returns-style.

Steel tells everyone he's not Superman, he's just a dude trying to help, but Mama Bess still insists on making him a new cape to replace the one that got torn up in the fight. Ron concludes his report saying that this guy isn't the real Superman, "but maybe he was the next best thing."

"He Had Me Thinking He Was Superman" (by Jerry Ordway)

Jerry Ordway fills in for Roger Stern and Jackson Guice (who at least has a pin-up in this issue) and, man, I never knew how much I needed to see Ordway draw the Eradicator until now. In this story, Perry stumbles upon a standoff between Maggie Sawyer's Special Crimes Unit and the most violent yet Spock-like of the four Supermen, who's holding an armored goon hostage as he interrogates him.

Maggie kindly kicks Perry out of the active crime scene, but he sticks around and decides to solve this situation via the power of journalism. First, Perry talks to a warehouse worker (who kinda looks like an Amalgam of High Pockets and Lamarr) and learns about a nearby entrance to a rumored Intergang hideout. Then, he uses a radio scanner to find the frequency the goons' friends are using to communicate. He tries to tell Maggie about this, but the Superman Formerly Known As The Eradicator grabs Perry and flies off with him to find out what he knows. Perry says he'll tell him if he promises to stop being such a psychopath for a moment.

Thanks to Perry's information, the Eradicator finds the other armored goons, who are moving weapons from an abandoned Intergang cache. The Eradicator violently (but non-lethally, as promised) encourages the goons to renounce their criminal ways, and then locates the mastermind behind this operation, who turns out to be... no, not freakin' Psi-Phon and Dreadnaught, but close enough: Professor Killgrave! You know, that little twerp with the Moe haircut who once trapped Superman in an amusement park full of killer robots. Having seen how the Eradicator dealt with his hired goons, Killgrave eagerly gives himself up to the authorities.

As the Eradicator flies away from the underground base, he carelessly sends some debris flying off which almost hits some bystanders and ruins Perry's car. So, the Eradicator fulfills his promise to Perry that he wouldn't kill anyone, but Perry decides he can't keep his side of the deal, which was to tell the Planet's readers that "they have nothing to fear" from this dangerous maniac.

"The Metropolis Kid" (by Karl Kesel, Tom Grummett, and Doug Hazlewood)

This story provides the secret origin for several Superboy-related elements: the name "The Metropolis Kid" (which never made a lot of sense to me), that iconic pinup of Superboy saving a lady in a bath towel, and Mack Harlin, a recurring character who first appeared in the Superboy series in 1995. Turns out he was a Metropolis cabbie before he somehow became a truant officer in Hawaii. Note that Mack also counts as the second Mike Carlin cameo in this issue.

(Wonder if the ride was $6,50?)

In the story, Perry witnesses the moment when Don't Call Me Superboy saves that towel lady from a building fire (which she didn't notice due to her love of '90s rock, waterproof earbuds, and long, hot showers). Tana Moon's photo of that moment goes viral on Tweeter, FaceSpace, and, yes, even Insta-image, turning Not-Superboy into a social media sensation. The official story is that the Kid is Superman's clone, but Perry doesn't seem convinced. He uses his journalistic powers to find Not-Superboy at a local skate park where he hangs out. Interestingly, Perry briefly wonders if the Kid reminds him of his late son, Jerry, before dismissing the idea. I wonder if that's Kesel commenting on a certain 2000s retcon that made Superboy and Jerry biological half-brothers...

While Perry watches the Kid being a kid, he's suddenly attacked by Bloodsport -- the original one from John Byrne's Superman #4, who just busted out of jail, and not the racist wannabe. Instead of teleporting guns into his hands, this time Bloodsport is wearing a "weapons suit" that allows him to quickly assemble them on the fly. One of the guns hits Not-Superboy pretty hard, but the persistent little bugger gets up and somehow manages to disassemble Bloodsport's suit just by touching it.

As Perry later determines, Bloodsport thought the bullets would kill Not-Superboy because they were coated with a tiny bit of kryptonite, but it didn't seem to have an effect on him. That's when Perry realizes who the Kid reminds him of, with his brash attitude, big heart, endless energy, and massive potential: not Jerry (ouch), but Metropolis itself. Hence, the Metropolis Kid. Eh, I'll take it.

"Betrayal" (by Dan Jurgens and Brett Breeding)

This one begins between the pages of Superman #79, after the Cyborg Superman saves the President from terrorists but before the Planet publishes Ron's soon-to-be-infamous front page proclaiming "SUPERMAN IS BACK!" How could Perry let that story through? As it turns out, at first he didn't wanna. Perry tells Ron he needs way more proof that the Cyborg is the real Superman. That proof sorta falls on his lap when the train Perry is riding gets derailed and the Cyborg heroically saves everyone. That, plus the Secret Service vouching for this guy, are enough to convince Perry that he's definitely Superman and not an evil impostor or something.

(Note that the story makes sure to mention the "living former presidents" happened to be at the White House when the Cyborg dropped by, explaining why the Planet's front page shows Bill Clinton and not, uh, whoever was President in the DCU "a few years ago.")

So, Perry goes ahead with Ron's front page story... only for the Superman he endorsed to turn around and murder 7 million people in Coast City. Whoops. Continuity quibble: this story makes it sound like the Cyborg was immediately revealed as Coast City's murderer, when in fact he fooled everyone into thinking it was the Eradicator for several days, but maybe Perry saw through it right away because he's just THAT good of a journalist.

Perry feels awful about that front page, especially when it emerges that the Cyborg and some big yellow guy called Mongul are turning Coast City's crater into a giant engine to turn Earth into a sort of Death Star. Just when Perry is at his lowest point, Lois tells him that another Superman showed up in a Kryptonian battle armor, and this time she just knows he's the real deal (because she made out with him, but she doesn't mention that).

We see the rest of the storyline (the assault on Engine City, the Cyborg's defeat) from Perry's perspective, and once Superman is back in Metropolis, Perry tells him how sorry he is for that headline. Superman's like "nah, don't sweat it, honest mistake" and actually thanks Perry for always reporting on him with honesty over the years. Moral of the story: trust Lois, double-check Ron.

"Legacy" (by Dan Jurgens, Travis Moore, and briefly all the others)

Meanwhile, in the framing story, Superboy, Steel, and a recently-rebooted, non-evil Eradicator (or his Phantom Zone ghost, anyway) show up to stop their old pal the Cyborg, since Superman is currently in space. We learn that the Cyborg has been hitting S.T.A.R. facilities because he wants to retrieve the DNA of his three astronaut friends who were mutated into freaks during the fantastic incident that gave him his powers, so he can bring them all back to life. The Supermen understandably assume that he's building some sort of weapon and try to stop him, but he's defeated all of them before and does it again.

Royally pissed that these meddling Supermen messed with his plans, the Cyborg notices their fight left some exposed gas lines in the middle of Metropolis and is about to use them to indulge in his favorite hobby: blowing up entire cities. Luckily, the Eradicator uses some of Steel's tech to make his hologram self solid enough to whip out a Phantom Zone projector and suck the Cyborg into his ghostly prison.

As soon as the day is saved, Superman flies down and reveals that he'd been watching all along but didn't intervene because he had confidence in his boys. Everyone shares a nice little moment, until the Eradicator makes it awkward with his talk of "Kryptonian purity."

The issue ends with Lois reading a passage from Perry's journal about how Superman inspired others to be better, even in his absence. She hopes she's able to tell Perry that the same thing is true about him, because "you are our Superman." Well, their other Superman.

Like the Death special, this is an excellent excuse for these legendary creators to play with their most famous toys again, and I wouldn't mind seeing one of these a year (Battle for Metropolis 30th Anniversary Special, anyone?). I kinda wish the Supermen had been introduced more gradually/dramatically in the framing story, building up to a grand reunion, instead of being like "oh hey, there they are," but that's a minor complaint and doesn't detract much from this massive labor of love. However, there's one thing I can't forgive: still no Bibbo. -1/10.

Fun fact, my co-host Don Sparrow and I agreed we'd make this post much shorter than the insanely long one we did for the previous special, and it ended up being... about 10% shorter. Woo! We did it! See Don's take after the jump:

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

We begin with the cover, and it’s a great piece from the formidable team of Jurgens and Breeding. We’ve mentioned in the past the rumour that there had been a falling out between this pencil and ink team in years past, so seeing their layouts and finishes together sure feels like a treat.  The composition is reminiscent of the image we used to have as the background on this very blog.  I must say, I’m not a fan of the colouring technique employed here by Elizabeth Breitweister, which looks a little flat and scribbly for my tastes.  The sky in particular just looks like a photograph with the contrast turned way up, and then colour filled, and doesn’t really work for me.  But that’s just my opinion, I’m sure the colouring approach to this cover has many modern fans.

Inside the main through-line story is by Travis Moore, and it’s mostly quite well done, if a little stiff in places.  He has a great handle on Lois Lane, and the "Reign of the Supermen" splash on page 5 is a particular highlight.  I’m less enchanted with the modern-day Cyborg Superman, particularly the torn sleeve on his right arm, and the missing belt buckle.  There’s generally a simplicity to the complex robotic parts that doesn’t work as well as other incarnations we’ve seen of the Cyborg Superman.

The next sequence, a reminiscence of Steel’s early days is a great showcase of Jon Bogdanove’s late style, some of which we saw in the “Retroactive” throwbacks of 2011.  While Bog still employs his cartoonish rendering, the figures are generally tighter and smaller on the page than his '90s work.  Fittingly, given the extra attention paid to Metropolis’ diversity in the pages of Superman: The Man of Steel, this story makes good use of a predominantly black Metropolis neighbourhood.  While I’ve never fully warmed to Ron Troupe as a character, this story does give him some background, showing his neighbourhood and living situation in a way that wasn’t covered by his appearances in the '90s. (As Ron is heading to work, he’s wearing a suit and tie, though I would have loved a callback to his famed JAM sweatshirt, first appearing in the story that THIS story refers to, where Ron is involved in the verification of the Cyborg Superman as the “one true Superman”).  There’s a terrific image of John Henry Irons flying at the camera on Page 11...

...and another of him destroying a toastmaster weapon on page 16 that is a standout, featuring Bog’s unique method of hatching to denote the shine of chrome.  Including something like a smartphone, as they do on page 16, is an effective way of moving the story up in time, so that Lois Lane isn’t in (at least) her fifties, having covered Superman’s return in 1994.  The involvement of specific Presidents later in the book hamper that slightly, but overall they do a good job of keeping it nebulous.

It was difficult to pick a favourite sequence, but I have to give it to the Jerry Ordway Eradicator story.  It’s interesting to see a story by Jerry with this character, who was mostly covered by other writers (indeed, Jerry was off the books immediately after Adventures #500) and artists.  Ordway hasn’t lost much zip on his fastball, as the entire story employs the usual dynamic realism and well-observed textures that we’ve come to appreciate in his work.  Perry looks like himself throughout, though he reminds me of Rodney Dangerfield in the one panel of him playing with his analog walky-talky.  The Eradicator’s costume has always been a terrific design, and he looks so cool as he searches for the rest of the baddies in an underground lair. 

Later in the story, the image of the Last Son melting through the getaway car is an extremely tall order art-wise, and again Jerry doesn’t disappoint.  As one of the two biggest fans of the triangle era, I was overjoyed to see an old-school villain like Killgrave in these pages as well.

We’re similarly treated to another original triangle era villain in the Kesel-Grummett-Hazlewood section, where Kon-El throws down with Bloodsport.  While it may feel like rehash to some readers of this blog, it’s been decades since readers have seen “The Metropolis Kid” rescue Ms. Sheenan, so it’s an appreciated callback.  Lots of great stuff here, but none I like more than Superboy shredding on a skateboard—a TOTALLY RAD moment, if ever.

The next section, like the cover, is something of a missed opportunity.  Again, we have a stellar pairing of Jurgens and Breeding, but the art is let down by what I would say is incompatible colouring.  Most of the tones are good, but the details begin to compete with the linework underneath, especially as the digital brushstrokes get scribbly, as they are on the arm of the Cyborg Superman on the title page, or perhaps worst of all, the should-be-impactful moment of the one true Kal-El emerging on Metropolis harbour.  Superman is depicted red-nosed throughout, and the rendering is sketchy, where even flat colour might have given us a better look at the inks below.  I get the feeling it’s all intentional—an attempt at a more painterly style, perhaps to denote that it’s a flashback.  But it was a miss for me—even though I always love seeing Mongul kissing the Cyborg’s hand. [Max: He does have a very handsome hand.]

Next to Ordway’s chapter, the high point of the book is where the triangle era super-team switch, page to page, in order to tell the story.  First with Jurgens and Breeding (with a less distracting colouring job), then Bogdanove, then Ordway, and finally Grummett and Hazelwood.  Interestingly, the classic Superman plays no role in the fight, showing up only at the end, in an echo of the original storyline. 

Finally, there’s a pin-up section, with some real standouts.  While the Stern/Guice team didn’t get their own chapter in the book, that title is represented with a great image of the survival suit Superman taking flight in front of the Daily Planet.  The comics logic part of my brain can’t help but notice he’s NOT wearing the Lexcorp flight boots in this image, and wasn’t able to fly under his own power in this suit, but I’m resisting pointing that out.  The Daniel Sampere pinup is another nice, simple image but again I quibble, as the survival suit Superman had no cape.  Is that maybe the Cyborg’s cape?  It was also deeply cool to see all the trade dress and character logos at the back of that section. [Max: And the Kerry Gammill/José Luis García López promo image! Been a while since we've seen Gammill in this blog so that was a nice surprise for me.]

SPEEDING BULLETS:

I love that this story showcases Perry White’s regret about running Ron’s story that lent credibility to the murderous Cyborg Superman.  They never really dealt with the journalistic repercussions of that within the story, so I love seeing an added dimension through this new narrative.  They also absolve the Clintons more specifically, as the Cyborg notes that all Presidents vouched for his veracity, so it wasn’t just slick Willie who got it wrong.

I realize the Travis Moore pages are mainly a narrative device to set up the flashbacks, but there’s something off about someone as deadly as the Cyborg just aimlessly shooting up the city.  As we saw when he took Doomsday’s body in Superman #78, with his power set, and technological ability, Henshaw can get in and out of a very secure place with speed and stealth, none of which do we see here.  The dissonance isn’t helped by the art, which shows very empty streets for a usually crowded literal Metropolis. 

The use of Perry White’s diaries as a framework for the flashbacks is a super idea, and puts a beloved character at the center of the issue, even if he’s physically absent in current day comics.  (Having dropped the super-books during the Bendis run, I confess I was a little lost on that score.)

Not familiar with the skateboard term “Grommet” but it pays off on the last page of the section as Superboy gives a skateboard to “Tommy the Grommet” in a shoutout to artist Tom Grummett.

The idea of the Cyborg resurrecting the rest of his crew is an intriguing one, and it does make me wonder what an insane mirror image Fantastic Four would be like as opponents of Superman.  Certainly it would even up the odds a little, as the Super squad we see in these pages had no trouble handling Henshaw on his own. [Max: I like that idea. Call them the Tragic Four.]

Overall I think I liked the Death anniversary issue a little more, as the story felt a bit more urgent than just window-dressing for flashbacks.  But both are like meeting an old friend after a long time.  This really was a high-water mark for Superman stories, and for comics in general.

[ladytanithia]

Writing WIP Wednesday (1/24)

For Chapter 22 of Best-Laid Plans - Miranja and Athis getting better acquainted.

I haven't written much in the last month. Barely picking at this chapter. Haven't drawn anything since Christmas. Long slump. Winter feels like a time for looking inward, coming up with ideas, germinating. I hope to have some things rolling - downhill, with momentum - by spring. In the meantime, here's part of a scene that's taken me weeks to grind out. Tagging my friends, but no obligation to read or share something if you're not inclined. @dirty-bosmer @guarmommy @gwilin-stay-winnin @mareenavee @skyrim-forever @thana-topsy @thechaosdragoness @thequeenofthewinter

As they took adjacent seats at the table, Miranja commented, “You know, I’ve been all over Skyrim, and I’ve noticed that there are only a few cities where Dunmer live. Winterhold, where the college was once well populated with Dunmer, but now there are only a few left. Windhelm – ” Here Athis briefly interrupted her with a derisive snort. “ – where the Dunmer live and work but are treated as second-class citizens. Riften, where the Dunmer live and work alongside everyone else, including Argonians, and everyone but Khajiit are accepted with open arms. And here, where you and Irileth are esteemed members of society.”

“So what’s your point?” Athis asked, washing down his bread and cheese with a swig from his bottle of ale.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just being silly. Please don’t take this as condescending; it’s really not. I just feel rather proud of you for making a name for yourself in this mostly prejudiced province. I mean, I respect you.” She turned to look him directly in the eyes. “Also, you’re the only Dunmer I know, besides Irileth, who’s an actual warrior. It takes a different kind of strength and courage to be a warrior. I didn’t come here to be a warrior; I came here to be a mage. But I’ve felt obligated to become one since learning I was Dragonborn and that Alduin has returned. I’ve always been just a girl, and now everyone sees me as the savior of Skyrim. Of all Tamriel, even.”

She was, to an extent, fishing for sympathy and comfort, but Athis was oblivious to her hinting and was not inclined to coddle her even if he had noticed. “Well,” he said, “you’re in the right place if you’re looking for ‘elp in becoming a better warrior. We all ‘ave our specialties here. Farkas can teach you about two-handed weapons, Vilkas is good wif heavy armor, Njada earned the name Stone-Arm because she’s great wiv a shield – but don’t tell ‘er I said that.”

Miranja smiled wryly, remembering the first time she’d entered Jorrvaskr and witnessed his maybe-not-so-friendly spar with Njada. She’d been humiliated right along with him, but she hadn’t even known his name yet and she hadn’t wanted to say or do anything to embarrass him. Now that she had him talking, though, she had to satisfy her curiosity.

“What is the deal with you and Njada? I don’t know if you remember, but I happened to come in here for the first time just as you and Njada were ‘discussing your differences.’”

“I knew you looked familiar. Yes, now that I think about it… you asked my name, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and you told me. Then it seems you promptly forgot about me,” she ribbed. “But I remembered you.”

“Well, I was a bit preoccupied, if you’ll recall,” Athis replied defensively.

“It’s okay, Athis. I’m just teasing you. So…?”

“So, she’s got this ‘strong Nord woman’ attitude. If you’ve ever ‘eard Olfina Grey-Mane goin’ on about that, it’s because they’re friends. Njada can beat any man at Jorrvaskr in a fight – except Farkas, the big brawny s’wit. And I say that in the most loving o’ ways. Nord or not, he’s treated me like a brother since the day I joined. Anyway, it’s a superiority thing for ‘er. She likes to test everyone - and 'erself - about once a month. You just ‘appened to walk in on me getting my turn.”

“Ahh, so you’re saying that if I hang around here enough, I can expect her to do the same to me.”

“Exactly.”

They ate their fill, Miranja glancing stealthily at Athis every few moments, watching what he chose to eat, how his used his hands, listening to the sounds he made as he ate and replenished his body.

Something about sharing food and eating together seemed intimate to her; not just with Athis, but with anyone. Sometimes, food was scarce and hard-won, and the act of sharing it was generosity at its finest, helping others to survive, stoking their life force. This wasn’t one of those times of scarcity, but Miranja still enjoyed sharing meals with people whether she was on the giving or the receiving end of the deal. She’d shared the idea of the intimacy of sharing food with her parents once. They’d been surprised and intrigued by her point of view, and wondered, as they had many times before about some of her other ideas, how she’d reached that conclusion. She knew she was odd, but she didn’t care, when her ideas were pleasing to her.

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

WIP Wednesday

Dreamwalker (Eddie’s Story)

Summary: Steddie Canon compliant/fix-it fic paired with a corresponding story in Steve’s POV, each chapter happens in tandem with the other. Eddie wakes up alone in the Upside Down, not knowing how he survived, and unable to reach anyone topside in Hawkins. Wounded and alone, he finds shelter at the Harrington’s house (the place is a damn fortress after all), and while hiding out there discovers that he has gained the ability to walk into other people’s dreams.

((unbeta'd snippet from Chapter 03 that probably has some incorrect information in regards to the Upside Down/history of the show but I haven't gone back to fact check just yet. Also remember Eddie does not have some information that the others do so there are missing pieces there as well: for instance, he is calling the Demogorgon a Nazgûl (because we are doing lots of LotR references, and he never actually saw a Demogorgon in the show). He is currently hiding at the Byer's old house, and ends up falling asleep there while the creatures ourside are hunting. This is the first chapter where Eddie doesn't dreamwalk with Steve -- but with someone else. And therefore learns that he can walk into anyone's dreams. Also sets the tone for the rest of Eddie's story. There's 15 chapters total, if that helps paint the picture of how much more there is untold. Another stupidly long snippet, but it will probably be my last one for Eddie for a while. I'm wishy-washy on when the fic will be posted, and the logistics of formatting dreams vs. reality, but more info will come when the time nears. For the purpose of this snippet, the dream is in italics and reality is in regular))

—

Eddie dreams, and almost immediately he knows it’s not his own.

After finding himself walking through Steve Harrington’s dreams, Eddie discovers they feel very distinctly different from experiencing his own. It’s less confusing, for one thing, and he’s more sure of himself and his body as he moves around within the dreamscape. But he’s only dreamed with Steve twice, both when sleeping in his bed in his home, and there’s something very not Steve about this dream.

For one thing, he’s back in the woods. Not the Upside Down version of the woods, either, because the trees are intact and the air smells less foul, and there’s a different hue to the darkness here. Almost like it’s lighter, more familiar, nostalgic to his rattled senses.

He spins around, hands in his jacket pockets, once again wearing his battle vest (he misses it a lot, maybe Harrington kept it for him) and his Hellfire shirt. His armor. His go-to outfit. If he was to be drawn like a cartoon character in Scooby-Doo or some shit, wearing the same thing every frame, this is what he’d have on. And when he looks out into the darkness, he finds himself alone. Very much alone.

But this isn’t his dream.

How does he know this? Don’t fucking ask him. Eddie can just… feel it. Like when you step outside and can tell it’s about to rain. The atmosphere is just different.

He can also tell this isn’t Steve’s. Steve’s dreams feel like wearing a warm sweatshirt, they are crisp and confined and comforting even when they are facing something scary. But this… this feels more brittle. More watery. Smaller.

Then, Eddie sees him.

A little boy, standing in the woods. The towering trees seem to press in on him from either side, the forest floor is a shag carpet of leaves, roots and dips in the ground that could swallow that kid whole. He looks so small, and lost. Eddie had been lost in the woods before, when he didn’t know that if you just keep walking in one direction you’ll eventually hit a road. So he makes his way towards the boy, and only pauses when his vision fails him.

Well, it must have, anyway. Because Eddie could have sworn it was a little boy, about nine years old, and then like a movie-frame shutter the boy ages a few years. And then the click shutter happens again. It’s very ghost-story-esque and Eddie isn’t sure he wants to get much closer after that. The boy shutters between ages: maybe 10 years old, then 12 years old, 15 years old, and back to 10. If he had to guess.

But his presence doesn’t go unnoticed, the kid turns to him and looks at him with wide eyes. He’s got a rather unfortunate bowl-cut and big watery eyes and is looking at Eddie like he’s one of the Nazgûl come to eat him alive. So Eddie raises his hands in the universal gesture of ‘I come in peace’ and – it takes him a moment to realize he’d done something similar to Chrissy all those months ago. Trying to make himself not look so scary for a moment, when he spends most of his time otherwise doing his very best to have ‘Fuck Off’ stamped on his forehead.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he tells the kid, who about trips over his own feet to back away. “I’m not gonna hurt you. What’s your name?”

The boy licks his lips in nervousness, shutters between 10 and 12 again, a courage in his eyes as he finds his voice. 

“Will Byers.”

…Oh, shit. 

Eddie’s eyes are a little wider, now, and he lets out a deep breath as he tries to gain his bearings. He’d fallen asleep in mini-Byer’s room, and now he was in his dream.

So that’s how it works.

“Will Byers,” he murmurs, still a little shell-shocked. “Your friends with Wheeler and Henderson.”

He blinks and the kid is 15, almost as tall as he is, looking at him with more curiosity now. But then he’s 10 again, fingers clenched at his sides, suspicious and untrusting.

“Who are you?” he asks, his little voice doing its best not to shake.

“My name is Eddie.” He’s usually good with little kids, and he’d get down to the other’s level if he didn’t have a tendency to switch between four feet and six. But the spark of recognition is worth the softer tones, because the kid immediately connects a bunch of information Eddie isn’t privy to. But he gets the same look in his eyes that Henderson does when he figures something out.

“Eddie who died?” Will Byers asks, confused, hopeful.

“Yeah, Eddie who died,” he says back, and wow that feels like a kick to the chest. He puts his hands back in his pockets and leans on one hip heavily. At least they still talk about him, topside.

“Why are you here?” Will asks. Eddie just shrugs in response.

“I don’t know, man. It’s your dream.”

There’s a noise off in the distance, a dark guttural growl and heavy footsteps – both Eddie and Will look to it, snapping to attention and not moving an inch. ((This is a dream.)) Eddie reminds himself, like he has to do every single time. But the Nazgûl and Vecna could probably penetrate dreams as well as minds, so who’s to say that the thing in the distance wouldn’t be able to hurt them, here.

Will’s back to a small child, the same face and wide eyes that had been on missing posters three years ago. And he’s looking up at Eddie, whispering so as not to be overheard by the monster in the forest. “Do you know somewhere safe to hide?”

It takes him a moment to consider it. In fact, Eddie almost retorts with the same line as before. It’s your dream, kid. But then again, Eddie did have more control of himself so maybe… maybe he did know a safe place. Max had hidden from Vecna in happy memories, right? Dreams were just a compilation of memories and imagination. Eddie knows how to weave a tale, so yeah – why not?

He nods, steps closer, and offers his hand to the kid.

“This way.”

The woods are dark and dense and kind of lovely in their own way. The two can hear the Nazgûl in the background, although Eddie really wants to ask what the kids called it instead, and as he walks through the woods he just… focuses on the areas of the forest he knew well. In particular, the place he set up shop almost every day of the week.

And like magic, it appears.

They step into a small clearing in the woods, and there’s the picnic table he had last sat at with Chrissy Cunningham. Making a fool of himself to get her to laugh so she wouldn’t look so scared of him. Now he knows she wasn’t really scared of him at all, but the hallucinations Vecna had plagued her with. He swallows thickly, not wanting to think about Chrissy now – not when his very thoughts are driving where they walk – and then they are rounding the bleachers of the high school football field. Crossing the parking lots, and ducking through the East Entrance doors. Will had changed again, he’s older now, maybe 12 or 13, and looking around in curiosity.

Interesting.

“Have you ever been here before?” Eddie asks, because he needs to know. If Will had never been to Hawkins High, then he wouldn’t be able to dream it at all. That would mean that Eddie could create things out of thin air in a head that wasn’t his own. Both a very cool and very scary thought.

“Only a few times for school stuff. The others knew it better than I did. When I was lost they had El do her mind-walking here, so she could search for me. They made a sensory deprivation tank in the gym.”

Mind-walking. Eddie is even more interested now, and he wants to pry every little bit of information out of mini-Byers head if he can. “That’s the girl with superpowers?”

“Yeah, she’s like my sister.”

“And she can walk through minds?”

“Kind of,” and woah the kid’s voice dropped. He was older now, and taller again – probably the actual age of Henderson and Wheeler and Sinclair. “She walks through dimensions, but she can also walk through memories.”

“What about dreams?”

He almost doesn’t ask, but he also doesn’t get an answer – because then they make it to his hideout.

Eddie opens the door to the Drama room, where (low and behold) the Vecna Lives! Campaign is still set up from the night of the basketball game. The night Chrissy died, and Eddie’s entire life with her. The stage lights are set low, he’d created the perfect ambiance, and the table is still full of the havoc of their campaign. Those little shits won by the skin of their teeth, all thanks to Erika Sinclair. He’d never expected that. But it had been such a wonderful, delightful surprise. It’s a good memory, and Eddie holds onto it, lets it warm his chest and ease a smile onto his face.

“Woah!” Will’s face is pure awe, and there’s a handsome little smile on his face as well as he looks over the entire board. “Is this… you did all this?”

“It’s the night before I became a fugitive. My last and greatest campaign,” Eddie laments, shutting and blocking the door (just in case the Nazgûl decides to take up tracking) and then circles round to his Dungeon Master throne. Flops down in it with his legs hanging over the arm, and relishes in the familiarity of it. It’s the throne the props people built for a few plays over the years, and Eddie had to beg the Drama teacher to let him keep it for Hellfire. It was perfect. Set the tone immediately. All the other players got little folding card chairs, but Eddie was in charge and this was his domain. The throne never let them forget it.

Will looks around the board with skilled eyes, taking in each part of the story, and then his gaze lands on Henderson’s seat, where the character sheets and books are still set up. He must recognize the name, or the handwriting, because suddenly he’s frowning. The seat next to Henderson is Wheeler, and the frown deepens.

“Those shitheads,” he mumbles. “I begged them for months to play D&D with me last year, and as soon as I’m gone they join a club for it with a kick ass DM.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment” Eddie tells him with a wave of his hand, like the royalty he’s trying to be. “But yes, that was rather shitty of them. They told me all the time about how you’d wreck the campaign. Your presence was missed, Will the Wise.”

And it was true. Henderson had often shouted to the D&D heavens when Eddie’s hidden monsters would destroy half their party and demand to know where ‘Will the Wise’ was when they needed him.

“So,” he draws out the question, wanting to get back to the mind-walking girl, but he can see there is something still bothering the little Byers. “Did Henderson take over the campaigns? Or did you fill my empty throne upon your return?”

The smile falls from his face like a cinder block, and Will sits down in Wheeler’s seat heavily, gaze still roaming the complex board on the table.

“No, there’s been no games since everything happened.” He sounds sad about it, but Eddie gets the feeling it doesn’t actually have to do with D&D at all. 

“How come?”

“Well, it’s kind of a… sore spot,” Will admits, and then he glances guiltily at Eddie. Who doesn’t get it for a minute.

Oh.

Oh, crap.

It must show on his face that he knows it’s because of him. He was the ringleader of Hellfire, after all.

“Dustin doesn’t even really like talking about it,” Will confides in him. “But he doesn't really talk to anyone about anything, we don’t see him that often. Mostly just at mom’s family dinners when Steve drags him there.”

“I heard about those,” Eddie murmurs, picking at the flaking black polish on his nails to mask the guilt clawing at his chest. “Good ole Steve.” 

“He’s trying so hard to take care of everyone, but I know he spends a lot of time with Dustin. And Max. I really should visit Max more,” he murmurs now, his gaze going further away, and Eddie isn’t sure if he’s waking up from his dream or if Eddie is actually losing him in all this maudlin talk.

“She’s in the hospital, yeah?”

“The doctors aren’t sure if she’ll wake up,” Will tells him. “She’s just… in a coma. El is worried she’s stuck somewhere between the realms, but everyone else is worried she’s just… gone.”

Okay, they needed a topic change.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Eddie says, nearly flipping out of the throne in a manner that might have been a little over the top, but it shook the sadness from Will’s eyes and that’s what Eddie was going for. Court Jester, extraordinaire. It worked on Chrissy, it’ll work on little Will Byers. (Although not so little anymore.)

“Sure?”

He fumbles upright, and sits down in Henderson’s chair so he can finally level with the kid.

“You were stuck in the Upside Down when you went missing, right?” He knows he’s right, Henderson had gone into great detail about how it all started, but that's not the point of asking the question. Will nods, confused but intrigued. Super. “Okay, so – how did you hide and like… stay sane? You were just a little munchkin and all but you were in there for days.”

“Time moves differently there,” Will points out, but then shrugs and thinks about it. Looking up at the stage lights in thought. “I hid in this old fort of mine in the forest, it was something I had built myself and it didn’t make me feel so alone.”

Castle Byers, Eddie had seen it. He nods and motions for Will to continue with an exaggerated hand flourish that makes the kid smile. 

“So, here's my theory – after talking with El and some of the others about it, and about how Max hid from Vecna – I think maybe because it held such good and safe memories for me, it protected me like no other house could. I think that’s how I wasn’t caught again.”

Now that, that gives Eddie pause… because his safe spot right now was Harrington’s house. But he had never slept in Steve’s bed before in his life. (Dreamed about it? Of course, but Eddie had only ever stepped foot in his kitchen to do business during house parties. There was no connection to the property itself.) So why was it safe now? Was it Steve’s memory that made it so? A combination with the fact there were no vines inside? It was a lot to mull over, and Will was taking his silence as a go-ahead to continue on.

“Basically, if I had to give any advice,” Will draws out, trying to see what Eddie was angling for. Yes, advice would be greatly appreciated. “The Upside Down is a direct mirror of Hawkins, so go and find the bits of yourself that still exist out there. Things that make you feel more like yourself, and less like you’re living in hell. Clothes or pictures or books. Something that’s not dangerous to carry around, but reminds you of home.”

That makes a lot more sense than Eddie had expected it to. 

He looks back to Will, and gives the kid a grin that is equal parts impressed and appreciative.

“Thanks, kid. I think I’ll just have to do that.”

Will beams at him, a little hero-worship shining in his eyes that Eddie has witnessed before from his little hellion sheep. But then a spark of something like recognition crosses those wide eyes and Will’s gaze narrows at him in suspicion.

“Wait, why would you want to know that?” he questions, and Eddie doesn’t answer. Stays kind of tight-lipped about it because… he could just tell mini-Byers that he’s alive in there and that he should get Good Ole Steve-O and Nancy Wheeler and superhero girl to come rescue his ass. But would he believe him? Or remember?

And he recalls how fast the Nazgûl attacked once he fucked with the lights. The gate was closed, opening it could open up a whole can of worms or whatever that no one was ready to deal with.

Maybe… maybe he should just sit tight, for now, and see if he can help them all out somehow?

((Where was all this self-righteous bullshit coming from?))

Analysis time would also be a problem for Future Eddie.

“Let’s just say, it’ll come in handy for me,” Eddie relents. A little hint. Knowing those shits they’ll figure it all out anyway.

Instead of elaborating, he extends his hand, and waits for Will to clasp it like all good boys had been taught to do.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Will the Wise.”

He’s slow to smile again, but it’s a genuine thing and Eddie takes it for the little speck of Gold it is. “I’m glad I finally got to meet you, Eddie the Banished.”

And Eddie knows he has Henderson to thank for that nickname, but he would wear it proudly for the rest of his days if he ever manages to make it out topside again. 

Although Byers might give Henderson a run for his money on ‘favorite child’, at this rate.

—

When the blood red morning dawn creeps in through Will Byer’s windows, and Eddie crawls out from underneath his bed, there’s a lot of thoughts tumbling around his head as he gathers his things.

In particular, the thought that trying to contact the other side might not be the best idea at the moment. 

For his health? Yeah, possibly. He can’t actually live on moldy food the rest of his days, however short that may be, but he has to think of the bigger picture here. Everyone was having a rough time topside, in a completely different manner to Eddie’s own, but that old saying really rang true to him – shit was tough all over. They were all trying to heal, and knew there was a fight on the horizon. Eddie knew that eventually, everyone else would make it back to the Upside Down to finish this fight. He just had to live long enough to see that day.

So… why didn’t he just use his placement as an advantage?

Why doesn’t he do what he imagined himself doing, and really commit to the bit of espionage? Eddie could commit to the bit so hard he got himself in trouble most of the time. No use switching that up now.

So he gathers his things, tip-toes through the house, and runs right back into the woods. He has quite a few stops to make, but there’s one he needs to do first and foremost.

It takes the better part of the day, but he finally comes to the trailer park. The chasm splitting open the Earth glows and pulses with an intense heat, and there’s things prowling all around, but Eddie stays pressed to the backs of the trailers and dips and ducks around as best he can. Avoiding bats and rats and dogs and what might be a cat-like creature but he’s not entirely sure. Margaret’s trailer is much further down the road, where he’d biked when the bats chased him, so her bunker of Doomsday materials would have to wait.

Will said to find the things that reminded Eddie of himself, so that’s what he was going to do.

Uncle Wayne’s trailer is split in two, but Eddie’s room had been at the back end so it survived – to a degree. He crawls through the wreckage, picking through stuff that’s burnt and probably leaking radiation or some shit (seriously how has he not dropped dead at this rate?) and finally finds the tiny space that used to be his closet. It’s full of shirts and clothes he hasn’t seen in a couple years, but at the bottom is an old metal tool box that he’d stashed a bunch of sewing shit inside of. Patches. Bits of old band T-shirts, and sure enough – he lifts the lid, and finds the very origins of his battle vest. It’s still a jean jacket, at the moment, with sleeves covered in patches and safety pins – he ripped them off the summer between his second and third senior year – but on the back is the freshly hand-stitched Dio logo taking up the entire back panel. It’s gorgeous, and he immediately slips it on under Steve’s leather jacket. He’s lost enough weight the past few weeks it still fits, but he has a feeling he might be ripping off the sleeves sooner rather than later. Because he has some work to do, and some weapons to practice with.

But not before he goes and retrieves the final missing piece of himself.

His sweetheart is lying on the ground, covered in ash, some of the strings rusted. He whispers apologies to her as he picks her up out of the rubble. She’s a beautiful blood red Warlock NJ Series electric guitar that he spent two years saving up for, and as soon as he clips on a strap and slings her across his back, he feels more at peace than he had in a long time. Will the Wise had been right, he feels like he could take on the world with these bits of himself restored.

Harrington’s house was twenty miles away, and sundown was in only a few hours. He had errands to run, a distance to cross, and a realm of monsters in between them.

But he also now has a bike (discarded in a pile from Spring Break just waiting for him to pillage), and his guitar, and his battle jacket. 

Fuck Vecna and his minions. This was Eddie’s world now.

Time to get to work.

—

tbc

—

Series Snippets:

- Dreamwalker (Eddie’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

- Subconscious (Steve’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

[jack-o-lynn24]

The next character on the list is Windswept Box the tabaxi rogue, who holds a special place in my heart for a number of reasons. He's a silly femboy cat with all the pride in the world. He's cuter than you and he knows it, and will do anything he can to use that fact to his benefit. Box is actually the character I've drawn the most. Partially because I haven't quite hit a spot where my depiction of them seems entirely accurate to the version in my head. He was initially made for a campaign, but when that fell through I ended up recycling him to play in a play by post westmarch server. For a while he remained that smug catboy, but then Bridget came out in Guilty Gear Strive & I couldn't resist the chance to depict some of my own experiences with my gender through them. Which is why it's been really weird to introduce 'him' with those pronouns, because eventually, with the help of some friends (and some pushy fey) she figured things out.

I liked this one a little better than the first, but something about her left hand & face never sat right with me. Also, yes, she very much borrowed a portion of Bridget's outfit ^^; At one point she attended a ball, and I drew some art specifically for the occasion. I think this is my best drawing of her to date.

At one point after this she came across a gag potion that changes someone's sex for 1d4 hours, and it left such an impression on her she immediately began looking for the manufacturer to try figuring out how it worked. She was never very smart, but through the help of some friends (and the drunkard alchemist who made the gag potion in the first place) she did eventually manage to make a permanent version and medically transition (not that it changed her much) I enjoyed her build mechanically a bunch too. Swashbuckler 11/Way of Mercy 6, with a bonus Peace Cleric 2 towards the end, thanks to the influence of her S.O., who was also a cleric.

Backstory:

Abandoned on the streets in a small port town as a child, Box got up to mischief all over town in pursuit of food to eat and good places to nap. Taking advantage of how adorable she was to get out of situations or scam people without consequence. One day, around when she was nine or ten, she was caught by town guard and locked in a cell. Seeing her there, the guard captain took pity on her. Having just lost his wife, and having a daughter around her age, he figured she could use some company, and adopted Box as his own. Having done half of her growing up on an empty stomach, Box hardly had any strength to her, and when the captain decided to teach her to defend herself, it quickly became clear she just wouldn't be able to bear wearing heavier armor or using a big polearm like her sister, so he taught her to fight dirty. To use any advantage she can in a situation to come out on top, and more importantly, alive. Once she came of age, she was put to work underneath her father, not as a guard, but as a penetration tester. She had a knack for getting into places she shouldn't be, and could give pointers on how to make things harder for other people to do the same as her. Eventually though, her sister left town to become a guard at a larger town, and she was left alone. Quickly growing bored without her best friend, she ended up wandering away from home and off to adventure.

[rubykgrant]

It be Marchurch, so... have some Church! Not all the art I've done with him, but the ones I'm especially fond of~

Up first is a picture of Church (Alpha, that is) and Tex listening to a good0bye message from Epsilon (which he never thought they'd be able to hear), and the smug Church face from my pin-up series. With them are also two versions of Alpha as an AI without the armor (on the left is him actually returning after being "dead" for so long, on the right is a concept of the original Alpha when his Fragments were just part of him, all together yet different, before their memories were taken away). Next is some more AI pictures; Theta is my favorite, the best little guy EVER, and Sigma just happens to have my favorite aesthetic- fire (I promise, I love the other AI Fragments too, I just haven't drawn much with them). Also, some family times from my series of picture with Church celebrating Hanukkah (featuring him telling the story to Carolina with Tex in the background, and also the AI having fun making their own digital dreidel). Third is the process of my Blue Team group picture (the solid shapes of the armor colors, the outlines of their bodies inside, and finally just them. I'm so glad I figured out a fun composition with Church slouching/flipping the bird with Tucker standing confidently holding the sword, and Caboose waving with Tex flexing. also, enjoy chunky and chubby Church; this is the ideal Church body). Below that is the "Blue Team Carries Church" pictures; everybody takes a turn picking him up! Fourth is Church doing the "Hatsune Miku Middle Finger Tutorial" poses, the first version I did of my face design for Church, a rare image of Church actually looking intimidating (Tex taught him that), my favorite Church faces from the emotional comic between him and Tucker, and the little pixel-chibi design I made of Church so I could dress him up in different clothes (this is his default outfit). Next is some lovey-dovey Chex pictures;them in fancy date outfits (and Church being very proud he's actually strong enough to lift her), him kissing the inside of her palm and also doing the proper Gomez Addams move by kissing al the way up her arm to her neck, some images of them finding each other as AI again, and the funny big spoon/little spoon picture. After that is more funny Blue Team moments, and some emotional hugs, and also Red Team buddies~ That's a LOT of Church! Though, he might not think it is enough haha

[cure-icy-writes]

You run into Trouble near the fruit section of the grocery store, perusing the vegetables with a smug grin like she knows something you don't.

"Hear that?" she says, gesturing at the ever-present overhead speakers. They're playing something that's about as close to punk as you can get on the radio in an alternative grocery store, but pales in comparison to your actual music tastes. "My boyfriend got a pretty big record deal. I helped him write that song, you know."

Despite your better judgement, you're impressed. It's toned down and radio friendly, but the technical skill is good. The lyrics, though... eh, you've heard better. "Your boyfriend must be pretty good, then."

"He is; have you heard of him? I mean, probably not, you don't seem the type to," she says, then launches into an explanation of the punk genre.

The thing is. You're into punk already. You like death grips and metallica and rise against, and the grunge teens screaming their hearts out at a little venue down the street from your apartment that you like to visit on weekends.

But, well, ever since becoming a single parent, you haven't had the time to get into the fashion scene. Hell, going grocery shopping without the baby is practically a vacation for you. But you have long hair, put in a neat bun that you learned from your ballet days, and a pink sweatshirt and leggings, so the woman's probably made up her mind about you already.

It's only when she mentions his full name that you stop and pay attention.

"Wait, did you say-- I think I went to high school with him, actually," you tell her, blinking. It's been four years since you graduated, and between the joint pain from years of intensive ballet classes and the marriage and subsequent divorce, you feel so much older than your age. You give the woman your name, and ask if her boyfriend remembers you.

Her expression turns...sour. You have a feeling you've made a mistake, like when you were younger and still pretending to be something you weren't. Back in high school, your looks and dignified way of talking drew a lot of clique types to you, the kind that tried to make you into one of them. She seems like the opposite of those girls, but their equal, somehow.

"Is that so. Well, he actually has mentioned an old flame by your name," she says tersely.

"It was high school; besides, you've got nothing to worry about," you reassure her. You decide not to mention that you maybe liked him too; your so-called friends at the time hated the way he always dressed in oversized hand-me-downs, but you were drawn to him somehow, for his diligence at skateboarding and the devil-may-care attitude he wore like armor. "I've got a kid at home and no time for dating anyways."

"Well," the woman says, saccharine sweet, "Maybe you should check out one of his concerts? He's touring in town, you know."

There's definitely something off about her. But you've been keeping an eye on the local music scene anyways, and if nothing else, maybe the opening acts will be promising. You check out the guy's music on MTV, chat with some of your friends, and there's already a group planning to go.

Well, okay, you've been trying to keep an eye on the local music scene. You slip out of it sometimes and forget, or get busy with parenting, and the little bug has been learning to crawl and keeping you insanely busy trying to baby-proof every possible surface.

It's a nice break, honestly, when you hire a babysitter and attend the show. You're looking forward to it, even. Except everything, all of the sudden, goes wrong. Your high school crush starts the concert by inviting his girlfriend up for a special song where she'll sing the vocals, and the lyrics sound more and more familiar. Details that she shouldn't know. Details that... oh. Has she been gossipping with your old 'friends' from high school? It's been years. Why is she still so hung up on this? You never even dated the guy, and she's singing some spiteful song about how she thinks you're stupid and shallow for.... what, 'turning him down' back in high school? If anything, she's the shallow one, for only dating him once he got famous.

But somehow you're the villain here? It's so, so fucked up, and the concert was supposed to be an escape. But here's this weird heteronormative jealous lady, on stage, singing about her beloved "Sk8er Boi" and how they rock each other's world.

[jocelynships]

You know I've gotta ask blue for Kurt, but also orange & pink for Draxum!! Genuinely curious what y'all would do together haha. Love you Joce 💙

Hehe thank you, Emily!! These will be fun, so let's go!

We'll answer for the blue boy first!

Blue: What is their love language?

Oh, physical touch for sure! Kurt's a very physically affectionate guy! Him and my S/I are always holding onto each other in some way shape or form. Sometimes their arms are around each other, if they're not holding hands then their pinkies are intertwined, or his tail is curling around her in some way shape or form!!

And now for the goat man!

Pink: What is your favorite thing about their appearance?

Oh my god where do I start I legit love everything about his appearance

Okay. I think. I'm just gonna say his face. Like. I can't pick just one aspect about his face, I love it all. His pretty golden eyes, his cheekbones, his nose, his lips??? And listen. I love the fact they didn't make him a "conventionally attractive" young guy. Like, I will say that yes, he is almost human looking, all you have to do is remove the goat ears & nose, and give him a human skin tone and that's all you gotta change to make him look human! But he is so cool looking! They could have made him a generically attractive guy, but they made him an older guy, gave him wrinkles too! And I LOVE it!!!

So many people don't like how he looks without the mask and ya know what? Anyone who thinks that is a COWARD. He's handsome as hell, and I like him better without the mask tbh, even if the armor is a good look!

However, some artists have drawn him with his mask off, but the rest of the armor on. And it makes me go insanely feral. Like. I cannot say the thoughts I have about that man when I see art like that because I might scare some of y'all JDFHFDIJG

But seriously, I love his face so much. He's legit so handsome to me. I don't care what anyone says lmao. B.aron D.raxum is fine as hell and that's that!

Also those muscles. Need I say more.

Orange: What is your favorite date you’ve been on?

Oh goodness, I've been too caught up thinking about Joce and D.raxum's pre-dating shenanigans so much I haven't really thought about what type of dates they'd go on. 😳

And to be honest, D.raxum doesn't seem like the type to go out on fancy dates lol.

BUT WAIT ACTUALLY-

Okay, so it may not count as a "date" since it happens before they start dating, but it's the "Something There" moment where they both realize "Oh, this isn't a crush. I'm in love."

Joce and D.raxum get dragged to a day at Albertoland by April, the turtles, and one of my friend's S/Is!

And they're pretty much just trying to make sure none of the teens get into trouble, and Mikey wanted D.raxum to come out and have some bonding time with everyone.

And Joce and D.raxum get mistaken for a couple. Multiple times.

But also, it's where Joce starts to see D.raxum CAN be a good guy. He's a little awkward the whole time, not really knowing how to carry himself around other humans. He just got used to Joce, April, and my friend's S/I after all!

But him and Joce end up on their own while the teens go on some rides. Joce doesn't really trust carnival rides, it's a weird hang up she has, so she sticks back with D.raxum and the two bond some more. And in that moment, they both realize how much they fully enjoy each other's company. And man. Has the other always been so attractive?

I still gotta write out more details, but this is basically it! It's such a fun thing I have planned for them hehe.

Also man, sorry for rambling so much, but I Cannot Control Myself when it comes to D.raxum 😳

[ragsy]

stillness! for mandog, change for all of them since theres not that many?:3 I love seeing character evolutions

stillness: How does your OC act while still? Are they fidgety? Do they have any common gestures or tics? Does their clothing affect how they hold themselves while at rest?

Mark is SO nervous and SO fidgety-- Drumming his fingers, adjusting his glasses, hands in and out of his pockets. Often, he'll have his arms crossed and head lowered, like he's trying to blend into the wall. Shame he's a dog man and not a chameleon man, tbh. He's just generally a person who looks and acts like he's extremely uncomfortable in his own skin!

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

Mark: A FEW TIMES, YEAH LMAO

I actually drew something similar to this earlier this month:

He spent several years extremely depressed while working at a watchtower in the middle of the woods while ALSO unknowingly possessed by an evil dog spirit that would transform him into a rampaging quasi-werewolf state (the horrors part 1) but he cut his hair about a year before the horrors part 2 when he met his gf Emily. In the horrors part 2, he learned about the evil dog spirit, had his soul fused with aforementioned spirit, and is now partially transformed at all times (the man to dog ratio depends on how stressed out he is at the time)

Emily: Emily has been settled into her current style for years now, but as a kid she experimented with her look a LOT. She would go to school one day dressed in pink hearts and sparkles, and the next day in full Renaissance faire garb. And because it's been forever since I've drawn her, this is what she looks like:

Currently she's been mostly gravitating towards practical comfy clothes (but still in bright friendly colors) due to the nature of the monster hunting project management business.

Sloane/Agent Hill: She's never really had a lot of resources or autonomy to change up her look on purpose-- going from a scrappy street kid to an indentured servitude to what is essentially the SCP foundation has left her without much avenue for self expression. She channels that by means of her snarky personality instead. She's acquired a fair number of nasty scars throughout the years though, which she carries with pride.

Fishwoman: She's perfect just the way she is :)

also she doesn't remember looking any different anyways, so what does she care

Arji: Quite a few wardrobe changes, actually! Comes with the territory of being my dnd character of going on seven years. Most recently, he went from this:

To this. Which is to say he got a different coat and that's it

Sir Dillion: I dunno! I haven't exactly settled in an exact design for him yet anyway. But, he did just buy some plate armor in game, so I should design him SOMETHING...

[stoshasaurus]

I'm putting this here first because I'm starting to work on my characterizations of Michael and Raphael, the two other archangels aside from Gabriel. and besides drawing and making a dedicated character reference sheet, something I haven't had the motivation to do for like two straight years, writing seemed like the second best option.

My characterizations of Minos and Sisyphus are super off, largely because they aren't the focus of this snippet, so don't focus on that pleaseeee nsoifjewoijew

also all of the actual scripture I looked at was very...contradictory to itself?? when studying the hierarchy of angels. so I'm basically making shit up as I go, loosely based on actual scripture. if you're looking for accuracy, you can hardly find it in the actual bible, let alone Ultrakill fanfiction. I don't think any of you are here for that, but if you are, get lost (affectionate).

so here. actual writing starts under the cut. its kinda long and a contains very brief mentions of sexual topics, so be advised.

Minos ran into the room, quite hurried and out of breath, stumbling. He smacked his shoulder on the doorframe and cried out in surprise. The sound scared Gabriel; he was never so careless.

Sisyphus got to it first. “Minos?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“There is an angel here. Another angel.”

Gabriel froze.

An angel, still with their Light, was a force to be reckoned with. Light gave angels their determination, their loyalty, their vigor. Combat training could only go so far, when Light gave an angel its courage to continue. Indeed, a full-powered angel was something to be concerned about.

Before Sisyphus could continue, Gabriel stood from his side. “What did they look like?”

“I was not close enough to make out any features. But their armor was golden.”

He tensed. “Raphael,” he breathed.

The last time he had checked, Gabriel was part of a brotherhood of three archangels: the Chief of Angels, Michael, the Will of God, Gabriel, and the Healer, Raphael. Archangels were the highest ranking of angels there was, secondary only to God Himself. They answered to Him alone, and were the most powerful, benevolent, and well-trained beings in the hierarchy. There were none higher, and none mightier. 

Which made it all the more concerning that there was an archangel in the city. Raphael could level it flat if he wanted to. Could kill all three of them and never falter. 

But Raphael was a kind soul. Generous, empathetic, sometimes more than he should have been. It was the reason God had made him the healer, and not the maker of wounds, like Michael or Gabriel. Raphael could stand to be reasoned with.

Michael was another case. But he wasn’t here.

As he tread down the hallways, Minos and Sisyphus followed close behind. “Thou knoweth of this ‘Raphael’?” Minos asked him. There was anxiety in his voice; he didn’t want his city destroyed, not a second time. 

“Yes,” he replied. “Heaven’s hierarchy of angels had three archangels at the top; Me, Michael, and Raphael.” 

“An archangel. They must be very powerful.”

“As powerful as I was with my Light. Both of you have experienced that firsthand.”

Sisyphus barked a laugh, but that was all. 

Gabriel stepped onto a balcony, wings spread, prepared for flight. “Raphael was the softest of the three of us,” he continued. “He is very empathetic. He can be spoken with. Michael…not so much.”

“We shall stay here, then, whilst thee reasons with him, yes?”

“Yes. Stay here. If I need you, I’ll come get you.”

He didn’t give Sisyphus time to argue with him this time. Swords drawn, he took off, and navigated towards the aura of an archangel.

He was in the park. The park reminded him of Heaven’s gardens, a place he would visit frequently to think and have time to himself when his tasks overwhelmed him. A place he and Raphael would often meet to talk. How perceptive of him. 

“Gabriel?” he called. His voice quivered in that way that often indicated nervousness, an emotion Michael and Gabriel never let show in public. He found it almost sweet that despite his lack of contact with the angel in recent months, he could still read him like a book. 

“Gabriel? Are you there?”

He could see Raphael. Though he had a single sword on his person, the weapon was not drawn. His wings were slumped, and his movements were quick, almost distressed.

“If we are going to speak, Raphael,” Gabriel said, stepping into his line of sight. “I would highly suggest you stay right where you are.”

The healer whipped around to face him. His hands were clenched to his chest, and he noticeably brightened when he saw him, clearly excited. He stepped forward, moving to approach him, but he paused when he saw Splendor and Justice extended to either side of him.

He sounded like a wounded animal when he said “Gabriel..? What are you–”

“You know I cannot trust you, Raphael. The Lord would send his angels after the fallen all the time.”

“I would never harm you, Gabriel. I would sooner forsake my Light than do so. You know this. I am offended that you think I could do such a thing!”

He did sound awfully offended. “I cannot be faulted for losing trust in my brothers, after what I have done. You cannot blame me for that, Raphael.”

The healer visibly deflated, and nodded his head. “I..suppose so.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, Gabriel. That is all.” “Why?” His hand flexed, sword bobbing with the movement. “Did someone send you? Michael, perhaps?” “No! No, of course not,” he cried. “Michael advised us against visiting you, against any angels entering Hell at all, until the void created by the Council’s…absence..is filled, and everything is settled. He does not know I am here.”

Interesting. Raphael had always been like a leech to his older brothers. He did whatever they asked of them, was loyal to a fault. A teacher’s pet, essentially. Why would he go against Michael, surely the superior angel, and his orders for this?

Raphael’s laugh genuinely startled him. “You destroyed all of Heaven when you killed the Council. The hierarchy is in shambles. Terror and fear everywhere. Michael and I are the only two keeping everything together.”

Gabriel relaxed a little bit. “You are not angry with me?”

“No. I could never be angry with you, brother. Not for long.”

The Will of God lowered his swords. Despite his caution, it was good to see Raphael again. Someone warm, friendly, and familiar is exactly what he’s needed.

Raphael certainly seemed to agree, for as soon as Gabriel sheathed his swords, he embraced him tightly, wings curling in a halo around him, as if to shield him. 

“We’ve missed you.” Gabriel could have broken down crying and he would not have minded one bit.

“Is this where you have been living?” He released him, reluctantly, and examined the park and the buildings surrounding it. “It is…certainly in better shape now than it was when I last saw it.”

“Yes. I–we–have been rebuilding it.”

“‘We’?” Raphael questioned. “Another angel?” “No. King Minos.”

“K–” He broke off into laughter. “Oh, forgive me! I thought you said King Minos!”

“I did.”

He slowly trailed off after that. Angels did not often reveal their faces to each other, and therefore relied on body language to communicate their emotions to each other. Raphael’s body language communicated equal parts confusion and terror.

“You’re…serious.”

“Deathly.”

His posture became suddenly rigid. “Gabriel…King Minos is dead. Him and Sisyphus both. You beheaded them. I watched you do it.”

He nodded. “The bodies are dead, yes, but their souls live on. The Machine freed them from their prisons and spared them.”

“They’re Prime souls?! Why didn’t you lead with that?!” His wings fluttered in distress. Raphael had always been very flighty. “Prime souls are incredibly dangerous, Gabriel! They could kill you, especially Lightless as you are!”

“They have not harmed me yet.” His voice got a little quieter. “I trust them. They have been kind to me, and forgiving. More so than Heaven has. More than the Council.”

Raphael fell silent at that. He settled a little on his feet, staring at his brother with despondence.

“I see.”

Raphael peered about, distrusting. Gabriel found it amusing how innocent the angel was.

“Are they–” “No, they are not here,” he said bemusedly. “They are in the palace, waiting for me.”

His voice was level and contemplative. “You have been living with them.”

His chin drops and he nods. “Yes.”

“And what of the Machine?”

A wave of fondness settled through his stomach at the word, and he chuckled. “They could be anywhere.”

“They could be–’they’?” Raphael said, incredulously. “And you don’t know..? You must be mad, Gabriel. Absolutely mad. The child of man that felled an angel–”

“Twice.”

“...Twice felled an angel is simply roaming around Hell? Ungoverned?”

Gabriel couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice when he asked “What did Michael think of it?”

Raphael snorted. “Drop the act, brother. We both know damn well what Michael thought of it.”

“And what did you think of it?”

Raphael picked at his wings, an idle nervous habit that Gabriel once helped relieve him of. But it seemed to be making an appearance once more. He could hardly blame him. Regardless, he took his wrists in his hands and stilled him. Raphael did not protest.

He shrugged half-heartedly. “I didn’t think anything of it.”

“Do not lie to me, Raphael,” he scolded. “You would disgrace the Father like that?”

The reprimand slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. It was almost instinctual, second nature. He’d chastised so many angels during his tenure that he didn’t even have to think about it.

The healer’s voice grew louder, though it quivered more prominently as he became agitated. “What Father, Gabriel?” he growled. “He is no Father of mine, to have abandoned us this way, a fact you have shown us yourself.”

“I-I..”

Raphael stiffened. He’d likely never heard Gabriel stutter.

“I’m sorry, Raphael.” He took his hands again, having curled into fists at his sides, and squeezed. “I didn’t mean to say that. I am in no position to scold you, especially in that false way. I’m so sorry.”

Raphael’s arms were limp in his hold. But he sighed. Gabriel heard his breath whistle as it seeped between the gaps in his helmet, and he squeezed back. 

“I was serious when I told you I could never be mad at you.”

Raphael’s approval had always meant a lot to him. Something about making a good impression on his younger brother, giving him a good role model to look up to. Something about fraternal love. 

Which is why such a huge wave of relief surged through him when his brother spoke, and his knees went weak with it as he huffed gravely. “Thank you, brother.”

“It is nothing, Gabriel,” he murmured affectionately. “Nothing at all.”

They hugged again. It felt nice. The Light of God bathed him in warmth, and he wondered if this was what humans felt like, when they beheld them as they bestowed God’s messages onto them. The healer’s light was plentiful and radiant in a way that, damn it, Gabriel had sorely missed. He held his waist and held him tight. 

“Truthfully, I felt horrible. When the Machine defeated you, it–” He gave an incredulous look, if ever a helmeted angel could. “It changed everything. The Council kept it quiet. But they told us. About your defeat, what they did to you. I was…I was horrified, Gabriel. Without God’s blessing, it is an awful way to live for an angel.”

Gabriel laughed bitterly. “That is true, yes.”

“I know you don’t like being helped, but I wanted to offer my services. Your power was dwindling by the day. I wanted to…well. Spend time with you. Before you died. But you were so hellbent on finding the Machine that it was all the more difficult to find you. The next time I saw you in person was…the Council’s execution.”

“Is that what they’re calling it?” he asked, deadpan. 

He shrugged halfheartedly. “Yes. Obviously, nothing so drastic has ever been done in God’s kingdom. They do not know what to call it.”

“I suppose I cannot blame them.”

He took his hands again and held them, thumbing at his wrists. “But I didn’t feel you die. Neither of us did. Michael had convinced all of Heaven that you had disintegrated when the light left your body on that twenty-fourth hour. But neither of us felt it. You were out there, somewhere, and he begged me not to seek you out. But I couldn’t just…leave you. You’re still my brother, Gabriel, and status does not impede that.”

Gabriel felt humbled and honored in a rather peculiar way. Honored to have Raphael’s love despite his crimes, humbled in that he would seek him out even if it meant ignoring Prince Michael’s direct orders. He still loved Raphael, with his whole heart. It pained him to stay away from him, when he knew perfectly well that Heaven would no longer welcome him home. But what need was there for Heaven when everything he ever needed could come to him? He could’ve cried at the stupid smile in Raphael’s voice. 

“I’m glad you came, brother,” he said. Sobbed, really, limp as he was in his golden arms. “I missed you. I wish I could come home, but…”

Raphael barked a beautiful laugh. “As grim as it may sound, I’m fairly certain Michael would crucify you.”

“Most likely.”

He wondered if Michael missed him the way Raphael did. If he experienced the familial bond that came with their sworn brotherhood. Angels did not have siblings or family unless God gave them one, and He did not do so often. The only leniency was with the archangels, His most loyal and powerful creations. There were only the three of them, and Gabriel loved them as much as a brainwashed angel was capable of. Raphael obviously returned those affections. But he wondered about Michael, the stoic and stone-faced Prince of Heaven, who showed few emotions at all, let alone love.

“Have you been elsewhere in Hell?”

“I’ve been through all the layers a thousand times over,” he said. “There isn’t much else to do, with my title and Light being relinquished.”

“Have you visited the Wrath layer? The Ferryman quite misses you,” Raphael replied, his tone rather sly.

Gabriel gave him an accusatory look behind the layers of metal. “How would you know that?” “It was the first place I thought to look for you. I know you were quite fond of them, and I thought that, if something were to happen, they would happily shelter you.” He clicked his tongue, though it was mocking. “It is a wonder they never were crowned an angel. After all, idolatry is a sin.”

“Idolatry. Don’t make me laugh. No sinner’s dedication extends so deep.

“It is not my intention, brother. The Lord taught me honesty. Besides, I think you would be surprised by the loyalty of your worshippers.” 

Gabriel’s face was hot enough to affect the temperature of his helmet. But he remained silent, steaming, while Raphael laughed at him. 

“You are different, Gabriel. Something about you has changed. In a good way, I mean.”

He sighed, tired. “Many things about me have changed. I am a sinner, and I have recognized it. I am surprised you have not scolded me for it.”

“I am in no position to scold you, brother. After all, you were always older and wiser than I, having seen more of the world. And you do not seem unhappy. Whatever satisfies you satisfies me, also.”

Gabriel sighed. He supposed that wasn’t entirely untrue; he was a lot happier now, Lightless and free from Heaven’s influence, than he was most days in God’s kingdom. He regretted his sins, but ultimately he was better for it. 

And there were some sins he didn’t regret. Would never regret. 

(How God had ever considered sex, such a pleasurable and intimate pastime, a sin was beyond him.)

(He wondered if Raphael knew about the state of his virginity. After all, most angels, especially archangels, had a keen eye to the sins of an individual. But if Raphael knew, he didn’t give any indication, and Gabriel wasn’t about to bring that up.)

“I cannot say that Michael would feel the same,” he said bitterly.

“No, of course not. He is busy managing Heaven by himself. Took up the bulk of the work he did. Said ‘leave it to me’, and you know how he gets on. Best to leave him well alone.”

Gabriel nodded sagely. “Yes. That must give you plenty of time to yourself.”

“Oh, plenty. It’s easy to avoid his watchful eyes when he is so wound up. And with the virtues pulled from Hell, there was no one to survey the layers in your stead, so I took the time to look for you. Having gotten myself settled, of course.” 

Raphael looked off into the park, and Gabriel as well, following the track his eyes left across the bushes and trees. It was peaceful here. Quiet. No hymns or chirping cherubim. It was a simple and deafening silence, and both appreciated it more than they could put into words.

Raphael simply sat on the ground. His legs curled around one side of him, he was as elegant as a statue. Gabriel sat cross-legged next to him, and listened to him breathe. 

“Minos and Sisyphus…”

Gabriel braced himself. “What of them?”

“You said they are kind to you.” Raphael’s voice was analytical. He was probing, as he often did, still in possession of that childlike curiosity that had made him so irritating as a youth. Gabriel found himself more charmed than annoyed, nowadays. “Minos was a peaceful man. A pacifist. He did not fight back when you felled him, this I know. But what of Sisyphus? He was terrible in life. An enslaver, a manipulator. Surely he cannot be much better as a Prime soul, not with all of that power.”

God’s Hand huffed in amusement. “He can be blunt, certainly,” he said. “Rather abrasive, on the surface. But he is a kind man at heart. He often cannot express his kindness, and frankly, neither can I. We have been learning together.”

Raphael’s voice was soft when he next spoke. “I see. And Minos?”

“He’s very affectionate. I–”

Gabriel cut himself off with a sharp snap of his jaw. Raphael heard his teeth click and laughed, cocking his head to glance at him.

“I get it,” he murmured. “You have your freedom. Why not make the most of it?”

“You could have it also, Raphael. God is dead. Heaven is crumbling apart as we speak, and Michael is occupied trying to pick up the pieces. There are things I’d like to show you. Places I’d like to go, people to introduce. People I love. There’s so much more.”

“I know, Gabriel. I know.”

He took his hand, but it brought him little comfort. Raphael sighed, and his voice was small all at once. Nothing like the budding tenor he used when he sang, or his usual warbling tone. 

“But that would be forgetting my loyalties. The cherubim, Michael, all of the young angels that need guidance in His absence…they are my family, Gabriel, just as much as you. I long for a time where we can be free from this. Where we can explore the Earth together, roam Hell and make a new home somewhere else. Somewhere better.”

Gabriel was struck dumb by the sincerity in his voice. It was a maturity that young, flighty Raphael had never displayed. “But that day has not come.”

He stood, pacing some steps away. Leaving Gabriel behind.

You’ve finally outgrown me, he thought. Good.

His voice regained that familiar playfulness when he said “Perhaps an introduction is in order?”

He thought he knew, but just in case, he asked. “An introduction to who?” 

Raphael clapped his hands together mischievously. “Your lovers, of course!”

Gabriel choked on air, keeling over, and the Healer laughed heartily at the display, clutching at his breastplate. 

“Raphael,” he rasped. His voice might have been intimidating, were it not for the underlying rasp brought on by his coughing fit. “You are awful. Simply terrible.”

“Is it inaccurate? You yourself seemed to suggest otherwise.”

He followed Raphael as he spread his wings and took off. His flight pattern had always been floaty and slow, unlike the quick and efficient way his brothers had been taught. Gabriel had always wondered if God made him soft on purpose. He didn’t mind it either way.

“I have not asked. Perhaps you ought to ask them, since you’re so keen to know.”In his bubbly, teasing voice, he said “I will! I already have a plethora of questions!”

~~~

that's it for now I'll let you know if I add to this.

alright buzz off (ily)