#i might be colorblind but i know i colored them red OKAY

[bajablastable]

xerxes break and nikolai gogol.. does anyone see my vision..

[cripplecharacters]

Hello!

I'm writing a story where a group of people are forced to work together to solve a mystery, and early on in the story when two of the characters are getting to know each other better, they go clothes shopping.

One of the characters is colorblind (protanomaly) and he usually has a friend help him pick clothes out to make sure things match, but that friend is busy. So instead, he ends up getting help from the other character who he doesn't know very well.

They don't like each other very much (they're not enemies, they just don't really trust each other and they bicker a lot) so I thought it would be a nice way for them to bond and learn to trust each other.

She's initially confused as to why he needs help differentiating between colors, so he tells her that he's colorblind and explains what colors he can and can't see, and then they basically take turns holding up clothes and going, "What color does this look like to you?" and they both think it's neat learning about how the other person sees colors.

I know people shouldn't write stories about what it's like to have a disability they don't have, but I'm not sure if this scene falls into that category since he's explaining how it works and not what it's like to be colorblind outside of "yeah my friend helps pick out clothes so I don't wear an ugly outfit lol".

Does any of this sound like it would be an issue?

Hi!

My dad is red insensitive colorblind and he will send me pictures of his suits and ask what color they are because for suits he needs all the pieces to match. With other clothing he does not bother.

With that in mind, I'd say someone else picking your character's outfits for him is a little unrealistic, but definitely fit checking to make sure everything looks okay is fine. He'll know what colors his clothes are! Checking with new clothes or the same item in multiple colors is probably the extent he'll want someone else to help him.

On comparing color vision: with my dad's agreement to participate, a common game with him is "sort the M&Ms" and watch him fail at splitting orange and green ones into separate piles. So as long as your character feels comfortable talking or joking about it, it's all good!

Mod Rock

Hello,

I have a friend who's blue-yellow colourblind. According to her, most of her process takes place when she's actually buying the clothes. She stays away from most green and yellow because those clash with a lot of colours, and her collection of purple clothes is very small. She also tends to buy plain clothes without patterns or graphics, like plain t-shirts and simple jeans, because those are easier to match. When buying jeans, she sticks to plain blue or black, and she buys dresses instead of skirts to avoid combining a skirt and shirt that clash. Most of her shopping is done online, where the colours of the products are listed. Then, when the clothes get into her house, she either asks one of her roommates for help or uses an app on her phone that tells her what colour which article of clothing is. She sorts her clothes in her closet by colour and keeps clashing colour combinations in mind while picking out what to wear for the day. She has it down to a science.

If he's grabbing clothes out of his closet, he probably has them sectioned off based on what colour they are. All of the black would be in one place, the blue in another, etc. He might also keep problem colours (red, purple, pink, orange) away from the rest of his clothes in their own little section to avoid accidentally grabbing them, assuming he has clothes in those colours at all. He could also avoid bright reds and bright colours that are related to red (pinks, purples, magentas, oranges,) because those clash with a lot more than darker shades of the same colour will. If he's really worried about clashing, he might have the clothes in colours that will definitely clash with red- bright greens, powder greens, browns- also sectioned off. Colours and clashing are a whole science and there are a lot of ways he can avoid wearing clashing colours without help.

You might also want to keep in mind that there while there are some colourblind people who would be okay with games like this from people they barely know, my friend says a lot of them would not like this. Some, like her, would only tolerate this from another colourblind person. It's realistic that he could just be exceptionally chill about it, just remember that many people absolutely are not.

Mod Aaron

[fayewoodss]

hello I am here to ask what art movements you relate to the dream team

Okay, let's do this! LONG POST! *cracks knuckles* 😤

George

I'm starting with George bc I'm a shameless Golo and he lives in my head like a worm.

I immediately associate George with expressionism. Now, this may seem strange considering his personal aesthetics are very designer streetwear and techwear, which in many way is the opposite of expressionism. However, in a lot of his wardrobe and overall personal tastes, he does have small bits of appreciation for expressionism.

For example, this Supreme shirt of his displays the piece "Reaper" by artist Josh Smith. Josh Smith is a contemporary post-modern artist and not from the original expressionist movement, but his work holds a lot of traits to expressionist artist Edvard Munch. Though I do have criticisms of Supreme and their foundation being in appropriation of Barbara Krueger, taking her anti-consumerist work and messaging to create a consumerism giant, I do admire that they've grown to collaborate, credit, and pay artists through their clothes.

(Josh Smith with Supreme and Edvard Munch)

Expressionism is very broad in style and artistry because it was the movement all about expressing personal taste and emotions through art, rather than capturing scenes as close to reality as possible (impressionism). I shared a post a few days ago about George's precious Discord profile pictures and both of them displayed a broad and vibrant spectrum of color, one being a palette knife piece and the other being a splatter piece. Now, these aren't necessarily expressionism. Like Josh Smith's work, they are post-modernist and abstract contemporary, but the usage of color and freedom in strokes puts them in a similar category.

Now, my final reasoning for George being expressionism is purely just Vincent Van Gogh. I am biased as George is my fave and Van Gogh is my fave, but recently a theory emerged about Van Gogh that he was likely red-green colorblind. When we look at Van Gogh's color palettes. He heavily relies on blues and yellows that fall within the protanopia color spectrum, whereas when he uses greens, reds, and oranges, they are often used as shading for blue and yellow. There are instances where he uses red and green with intention (his self portraits and the painting of his room), but even then when he uses red-green, it is not in a way that follows usual color theory.

It is impossible to know if Van Gogh was actually colorblind or had a color deficiency, but I do think it is a strong theory that supports his art and adds a new layer of perspective to it. Especially considering he was very unsuccessful in his lifetime and his artwork was often considered jarring and not appreciated.

George's color blindness is also fascinating to me, as per his own on stream tests, he has tested both as severe and mild, so unless we had George's vision, we don't realize exactly how much color he truly can see. But in the parasocial box in my mind, I think he would enjoy Van Gogh and expressionism as a whole.

(Vincent Van Gogh, original work left, work with protanopia filter right)

Dream

In my collage post, I mentioned impressionism for Dream, and while I do believe that to an extent, I personally think Dream might fit more into illustration and outsider art.

Illustration is an easy one to talk about because so much of his brand is simplistic and stylized in a very graphic and illustrative way. His very icon, the black and white Microsost paint smiley on the eye straining neon green, is playful, memorable, and recognizable. It's easy to replicate and remember, and through the artists and designers on his merch team, it's able to be reimagined and expanded upon.

For some context, I originally went to school for illustration, but very quickly switched into fine arts, so my knowledge of illustration as an industry is not as deep as it could be, but I know that reproduction and recognition are definitely pushed as important.

Stepping away from Dream's own branding with illustration, I think there is a strong connection from Dream to outsider art as well.

I am a huge fan of outsider art. I took multiple classes on it.I love outsider music and poetry. It is overall a movement I greatly enjoy. However, as a disclaimer, the origins of outsider art as a movement and category for art are very dubious and unethical. I won't get into all of it here, but when outsider art was initially coined, it was very exploitative of the mentally ill, disabled people, people of color, etc. I think as time has gone on and outsider art and artists alike gained audiences that were more appreciative and good faith, it has transformed into something more wholesome and celebratory.

Dream is a self-made individual. He didn't go into YouTube, content creation, and merchandising with previous learned knowledge. He's very open about being self-taught in most of his skills and endeavors. Outsider art at its core is about the uninitiated and the self-taught pursuing artistic endeavors without the fear or stress of the institution of art.

Daniel Johnston is the most notable artist within outsider music, but he was also a visual artist as well. His work is naive and honest, even when it is hamfisted and fumbled. He is genuine and truthful, but often to a fault. But he grew a cult audience that loved and appreciated him, even through his worst moments.

A little personal interjection, but I am a huge fan of Daniel and his work spoke to me through high school as someone who spent most of my life with undiagnosed autism. His death genuinely shook me and I remember the day he died so vividly that in some ways I'm still grieving. I recommend exploring his music with my whole chest, even if it may not be to your taste.

I do think in the modern world, a lot of people drawn to outsider art and the act of being self-taught in fields of interest are neurodivergent. Dream has been very open about having ADHD, and even mentioned possibly being on the [autism] spectrum (though that question was asked in a very invasive way, so I take Dream's answer with a grain of salt). I think that adds another level of connection/relation to outsider art.

I could go on and on about outsider art and how amorphous it's definitions have become, but I'll stop there for now.

(Works of Daniel Johnston)

Sapnap

In my opinion, I think Sapnap is the most open about his interests and personal aesthetics. Even if it's not a direct comment on it, he has the most furnished and decorated office, he has a clear and consistent sense of style with favored brands and imagery, and he's a big fan of anime and adult animation. He also advertises the most out of the Dream Team, so, like, get the bag, but also I'm going to tease him with art movements that directly comment on consumerism and advertisement.

Right away, I think appropriation and pop art.

Appropriation can be a scary word as we often hear it in the context of theft or bigotry. Even within the world of art, appropriation is a touchy subject as we try to define what is transformative appropriation and what is plagiarism, reference back to Supreme and Barabara Krueger.

I actually saw a Barbara Krueger show in real life, and it was nothing short of breathtaking. It was overwhelming and in your face. It was uncomfortable and eye-opening. It both meant nothing and everything as you were faced with false advertisements, bold statements, and consumerist culture.

(Barbara Krueger at the Art Institute of Chicago, 2021)

The biggest name in pop art is Andy Warhol, and when it comes to Warhol, you either hate him or you love him. The man is surrounded by controversies, both good and bad, but I won't deny his influence on contemporary art. I think his bold colors, high contrast, and play on reproduction in art all fit Sapnap's personal aesthetics, similar to Dream with illustration. But in more modern pop art, I think a lot about my friend and colleague David Hernandez. David's art is provocative and at times uncomfortable, but he uses a lot of ideas and concepts from pop art and appropriation to appeal to a more modern audience, playing into nostalgia growing up in the age of the internet in a way that is reactionary. His work can be very NSFW and outright gooner brained, so if you do seek out his art, be warned of that nature. Still, his skill is insane because he uses acrylic, oil, and spray paint to make pieces that feel as if they were done digitally.

(David Hernandez)

I hope these make sense, and maybe you even found a new artist/art movement to enjoy! I do think there is flexibility within these and plenty of other movements and artists that fit these creators (like impressionism with Dream even though I didn't include it), but these stand out to me the most as fitting their identities and personal aesthetics and interests.

If anyone has more they want to add or discuss, please reblog and/or comment because I would love to hear from others on this!

[kairiscorner]

ok, but imagine noir falling for a florist.

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <;:D)

i'd like to imagine noir would have visited your florist shop before, but never really stepped inside. he might've come across it multiple times, walked by it so often he never realized it was right there all along.

the moment he stepped in, he was entranced by how lively and colorful the place looked to him. since noir is probably colorblind or is just generally unaware which colors are which, he's so giddy when stepping inside your florist shop one day when he remembered it was aunt may's birthday.

he'd probably be staring at a bunch of marigolds and he'd inspect them closer and mutter to himself, "really outdid themselves with the purple". he might sneeze a lot around the flowers, but he didn't care, he was too entranced with how pretty the flowers were.

it wasn't until you came up to him, asking him if you could help him, that he was entranced with something, or rather, someone else--you. you weren't a flower, but all noir could be reminded of when he saw you for the first time was that you were a red rose bud, blooming in the shade.

how could he have missed you, such a beauty was hidden from his sight for... so, so long. the first thing he'd tell you when he saw you would probably have been, "...am i dead?" because the only time he'd ever witness someone with such ethereal beauty, in a haven of colors and sweet scents that, even if they tickle him to the point of allergies, he's feeling the happiest he's ever been in his whole damn life so far.

when you ask him if he's okay, he finally snaps out of his daze and, all fumbling and mumbling, he blurts out an, "i'm pretty, and you're really okay."

damn it.

he cringes a little at himself for that first, more than three word introduction. he purses his lips, and sighs to himself, with a small sneeze as he inhales the pollen again. you giggled, and when you giggled... he smiled, he smiled widely. he knew he was being a fool, a complete bumbling fool, right then and there--but you made him a happy, giddy, mushy mess of a bumbling fool.

he introduced himself to you as you helped him pick out a bouquet for aunt may. "you know, i'm really glad someone like you's helping me with this." he told you as he watched you pick all sorts of roses, carnations, and dahlias.

"how come?" you asked, turning to look at him in the eyes. he turned pink when you looked at him with your big, bright eyes--those eyes that any rational man would become a bumbling fool over. "well... i'm sure a pretty, lovely, and patient woman like you gets bouquets from guys that... don't lose themselves over your beauty in front of you." he confessed.

you giggled. "mr. parker, i hate to break it to you, but... i've never once had anyone gift me a bouquet." you admitted, looking down at the colorful array of flowers in front of you. "oh..." noir said as he looked at you, still picking flowers for aunt may's bouquet.

"wait right here." he said as he dashed off around the store. you were a little confused as to where he might've gone, but he was a grown man, and this was a small store, you didn't need to worry. not long after, noir came back with a sloppily made bouquet; the ribbon was the color of your hair, the flowers... they were all the color of your eyes.

"mr. parker..." you began, but noir handed them to you still, his gaze pointed away from you, because he was so incredibly flustered to be even doing this. "i believe that... a pretty, lovely, and patient woman such as you shouldn't have to... go without knowing she's absolutely stunning, perfect, even. you're perfect." he confessed, trying to keep his voice leveled, but his embarrassment got the best of him, and he mumbled the last bit out.

you smiled as you took the bouquet from him, admiring how some loose flowers that clashed with most of what he got you poked out a little. you chuckled as you looked up at the sweet man. "now, i can't really take any of these home, but..." you trailed off as you picked one of the flowers and tucked it behind his ear, getting on the tips of your toes to reach him.

"i'm very grateful for that, mr. parker." you said with a smile, a tinge of red on your cheeks. "no... problem." he said as he was getting redder and redder by the minute.

as you rung him up, noir couldn't stop staring and smiling at you. you smiled back at him. "hoping your aunt loves the bouquet." you tell him. "and i'm hoping i'll always see you everyday after this." he said with a small chuckle and a blush on his cheeks as he ran his fingers gently over the flower you tucked behind his ear.

[prismaticpichu]

Hi pichu!!! <3

I see a lot of people make headcanons that Sephiroth's eyes dilate like a cats' bc of the way his eyes are, but I NEVER see people think about the other stuff it'd mean!

Like wouldn't he also be colorblind since cats have different vision than we do? And I'm not an expert on cat-vision lol, but a quick Google search of what cats see show blurred peripheral vision too :o (but idk if that'd really be super accurate 😭💔)

so basically, what-if Sephiroth had bad vision lmfao 💀💔

Heya, friendo!!! Hope you’re doing well!!!

~

LMAO this is for real something that’s crossed my mind too!! 🤣🤣 Like, yes, he does have those slitted pupils… but what does that actually mean??? Welp, let’s see!!!

*does a quick google search as well, double-checking some sources*

“Scientists used to think cats were dichromats – able to only see two colors – but they're not, exactly. While feline photoreceptors are most sensitive to wavelengths in the blue-violet and greenish-yellow ranges, it appears they might be able to see a little bit of green as well. In other words, cats are mostly red-green color blind, as are many of us, with a little bit of green creeping in” - Wired.com

“What colors can cats see? Cats primarily see muted shades of blue-violet and yellow-green but are unable to perceive red, orange, and brown.” - TheWildest.com

What’s bolded in pink is what I find the most interesting, bc it made me think of two REALLY interesting things:

1. Sephiroth can’t see Genesis’s stylish red outfit. Ouch!!

2. Sephiroth cannot see the color of the blood he sheds, nor the angry orange that SWALLOWED NIBELHEIM WHOLE… ouch.

In terms of peripheral vision…!

“Cats have a wider field of view — about 200 degrees, compared with humans' 180-degree view. Cats also have a greater range of peripheral vision, all the better to spot that mouse (or toy) wriggling in the corner.” - LiveScience.com

In ADDITION:

“Depth perception in vertical slit pupils is even better than in round pupils because the smaller animals are closer to the ground. Additionally, having vertical slits allows them to better hunt at night, thus, these animals are more likely to be nocturnal.” - DirtyClassroom.com

“Predatory animals with vertical slit pupils, like cats and many snakes, can maintain sharp focus across the horizontal field of view and more accurately judge distance to their prey. Horizontal slit pupils, on the other hand, sacrifice image sharpness at the left and right edges in return for wider peripheral vision.” - LifeScience.com

Okay!! So we know that Sephiroth has vertically-slitted pupils, meaning that his depth perception is more enhanced than ours!! 😂 Cats, on top of that, also have better peripheral vision than us rounded-pupil folk!! This man truly is superior lmaooooooooo!!

~

HOWEVER, it is just really funny to imagine Sephiroth needing glasses xDD Like… the strongest fella in all the land needing to slide on some spectacles in order to read a menu dhdhdhdhdhh!!! Them darn WORDS!! 🤣

Anyyywhoooo, this has been your impromptu research session from Professor Pichu 😂❤️ Plz feel free to take out an independent study material for the rest of class!

[le-bread-king]

the interesting thing about colors (and how minority/ majority matters)

ATTENTION: note that this is purely me spilling my thoughts out on tumblr, no research was done beforehand and i could (and might very well) be wrong and equivocated

The first thing that i want to point out is that colors are stupid. we "describe" colors such as red and orange as "hot" (why is someone attracted to a color? this, i will point out, is a joke) or "warm" why? because that our evolved (sometimes not) monkey brain thinks: "color in fire is color hot" ("that color is present on fire, therefore it must be hot") and colors such as blue and white as "cold", this is stupid because that A: blue fire exists... and it is way hotter than red fire. and B: yellow snow... occurs... (you shouldn't eat yellow snow.).

My second exhibit is something called: confused rambling. You see, the way we describe colors even outside of temperature is certainly weird. because we use either: temperature (as stated before), taste and emotions/ feelings those colors evoque, now tell me: HOW THE HELL DO WE SEE THESE THINGS IN COLORS??? THEY DON'T TALK, THEY DON'T EMIT NOISE (emitting noise would only make it worse because of subjectivity), THEY DON'T HAVE A SMELL, NOR A TASTE. HOW DOES ONE COME UP TO SOMEONE AND SAY: person A "see that red coat?" person B: "which one?" A: "the colder one" B: "oh okay"... (assume that person A and person B continued their talk) LIKE, HOW THE HELL DO WE KNOW WHICH IS COLDER? you, yeah, you that are reading this. go on, describe a color without aspects such as temperature, taste, or any of the bullshit i just so carringly mentioned, go on, don't be afraid, i dare you. and then there is the majority/ minority, let's assume that there is a room with 8 people, four of them only see on monochrome (black, white, and gray of varying shades) and four of them have "normal" vision, as soon as one of these people leave the room the opposite end of the spectrum is automatically wrong. if one of the "normal" people leave the rule will be monochrome and anyone that sees colors differently is "colorblind". this is all, thanks for hearing (reading) my rant

[sachermorte]

Like okay, 19th century painters, right? If you were gonna go back in time and get a portrait from someone the list is like this:

Renoir: MAYBE. He is a terrible draftsmen and actually the least technically skilled of the impressionists but sometimes he makes people look pretty. Other times he makes them look bruised. 50/50. Best not to go with him.

Manet: solid choice, edgy but not too edgy. Will use nice rich jewel tones. Put him on your list.

Monet: if you want an impressionist he's your guy. Pretty straightforwards. You will look good and there will be tons of sunlight.

Van Gogh: it'll be awesome but you might also be green and yellow. Literally. If you've always wanted to know what you'd look like with unnatural skin colors go for Van Gogh. Don't bother trying to pronounce his name just call him Vincent. Maybe give the poor guy some antidepressants. He's a delicate sad soul but desperately broke so tip him heavily. He will cry having made money on a painting. Also tell him to stop eating yellow paint. Definitely get a portrait from him.

Degas: you'll either be a ballerina or a prostitute. Maybe even both. Somehow there will be diagonal lines in your portrait. Consider it.

Moreau: are you a woman who wants to know what you look like through the eyes of a man who is literally terrified of women??? Then this guy is for you! You may be framed with sperm.

Klimt: like Moreau except with less misogyny and sperm and more gold. Good choice if you want to look like you could kill someone without ruining your #look. Happy to paint Jewish women. You will also be super comfy in his studio wearing big drape-y gown type things. Medium to high chance your portrait will be stolen by nazis. Go for it. You will look great.

Morisot: like a better Renoir. Seriously skip Renoir and have Morisot paint you instead. You will still look sweet and lovely. Consider it.

Gauguin: literally screw Gauguin. He was a pedophile. Your portrait might look nice but he's a gross jerk. If you want stupidly bright colors go get a portrait from Matisse or something at the turn of the century. You'll still have a high chance of being green but at least you don't have to go near a guy who left his wife and children to go prey on 14 year olds. Break his paintings over your knees and laugh at him.

Seurat: your face will be composed of thousands of tiny dots and you'll be used as some greater metaphor in an 80's teen movie and anyone who is colorblind will probably not get your portrait but optical illusions are always cool. Go for it.

Rossetti: ask yourself - do I have red hair? Do I want to sleep with Rossetti? If the answer is yes to both THEN get a Rossetti portrait done.

Cassatt: honestly a great choice for the people of tumblr, Cassatt is also really big on sprawling on couches as a general pose. She will do you a solid and you will laugh about how men usually screw up painting women.

Bouguereau: poor Bouguereau. Time has forgotten him and instead fallen in love with the rebellious impressionists. But in his day, HE was an ARTISTE of the ACADEMY!! He's got technical skill for days and you'll inevitably get a completed piece. You'll get a beautiful portrait it might just seem a little...polished. But hey, that's NOT a bad thing. Gotta respect his need to make money before he went wild with paint. Think about it.

William Merritt Chase: he's not a BAD painter it's just that sometimes he feels a bit like he could be someone else. There's a 40% chance you'll end up wearing a kimono. Maybe pass unless you want less drama than Whistler.

Egon Schiele: listen, no. Don't do it. There's like an 80% chance he will draw you masturbating with a creepy stare and yaoi hands.

Delacroix: sure he might be an orientalist painter and yes that's kind of awful but you gotta hand it to Delacroix: his "harem" women are all actually dressed in clothes and at least you know he can paint a skin color other than litebrite. Could meet a Jewish or Muslim sitter without having a total heart attack probably.

Millais: honestly get your portrait done by Millais solely for the purpose of pissing Charles Dickens off. Do you need any other reason? No.

Turner: he's a landscape artist ya walnut. The people he paints tend to be floating bodies in the water as a critique of slavery. Ask him to paint more social commentary. Maybe pass on as your portrait artist though.

Hiroshige: if you're not Japanese you're gonna be classed as a friggin weeaboo. Sorry those are the rules. But your portrait will be sweet.

Rosa Bonheur: ok like I really only remember her self portraits and cow paintings but she's a lesbian and if you wanna bond over hot ladies this is your woman. Who cares if she paints a cow instead? Not you! Do it.

Goya: pass unless you want to look dark and maybe slightly tortured. Ultimately you'll just be sad he's no Velasquez.

Ingres: the older Bouguereau basically. If you're super into neo-classicism or orientalist painting go for it. Otherwise skip it.

James Abbott McNeill Whistler: okay look - Whistler is a fantastic artist. He's amazing with colors and uses impressionist techniques without just cribbing off of Monet or something. All of his portraits are lovely, and you can't go wrong. Except there's like a 40% chance he'll never finish your portrait or will go broke painting it or will throw a tantrum at some point. He may or may not sleep with your wife. If he asks you if he can retouch a small thing in your house he will do it -- and then promptly continue to repaint everything and try and charge you for it all. If you yell at him he will later break into your house and paint giant gold fighting peacocks on your dining room wall, and then he'll tell you that without his additions to your decor you'd probably die forgotten but NOW people will remember you forever. Your normal interior decorator will see what Whistler has done to *HIS* room and then later be found lying curled up on the floor of his studio covered in gold leaf in the midst of a total breakdown. He will die three years later, never having recovered mentally. Also Whistler will go bankrupt and will paint you as a mean peacock if he owes you a lot of money. So you'll basically get a second portrait for free. Do it.

John Singer Sargent: honestly probably the best American Portrait artist of his era. You'll look amazing and he won't break into your house to paint peacocks or sleep with your wife. Get a Sargent portrait, you will not regret it.

[bigmeandragonlady]

WELL IF YOU INSIST ... my turn to go a little insane with reaching. they really did layer a lot of symbolism onto the green boy - i didn't miss the little alchemical symbol for earth they worked into his design, the really big and obvious triple goddess belt buckle, the snake/8 or infinity/ouroboros theme, association w nature/plants and whats under the streets (the little tree peeking out of the sewer? or whatever it is in the bg mainly used for the street his bars on caught my eye), or the way they keep showing him in churches and how the. little white thing over his shirt makes it look a bit like a reversed clerical collar. the (maybe) ritual knife and the little knife earring with one of two red points on his design. gold and its connotations of perfection in alchemy (which is the metal he and kuras share while everyone else is silver 🤔🤔). white lilies being a funeral flower and also about faith and rebirth. just a lot of things pointing to distinct faces/masks + wisdom/knowledge + cycles/death/breaking cycles/rebirth. given one of the aspects of the triple goddess is the nymph/matron and how he seems to have a reputation for flings but everyone else important hates him in a sense/he doesnt seem to have any actual *close* relationships it seems to point to maaayyybe an aspect of his story is breaking self destructive interpersonal habits (i certainly expect a breaking of cycles in some sense, though maybe its just life+death if the idea about him being undead is right. and a lot of things seemingly point to that right now lol!)

since the game seems like it might draw a lot on alchemy, given one of the bgs, kuras, leander and mhin all are involved with it ahve have some kind of alchemical symbolism going on one way or another, other alchemy symbols might be interesting to think about irt them, especially the green lion devouring the sun for leander, which is basically a metaphor for how aqua regia dissolves gold. all of THIS bit is absolutely just my nerd ass reaching, but i think its also neat how each of the five characters could be applied to one of the major alchemical colors (green, black, white, red, gold). green is obviously leander but the rest could be fought over

his thing with vere especially interests me since it seems like something went down there that went REALLY bad. like we know leander has a savior complex (evident enough in what we see in game but also called out by name in the promo material) and thinks vere is gorgeous, he must have projected some damsel in distress shit onto him that vere didn't like but vere despite his bluster seems (at least in the day we know him) pretty bad at setting concrete boundaries (he always dances around it and keeps it vague before snapping! going 'you'll know if' 'if i didnt want you to i wouldnt let you' saying one question then letting you get multiple in before putting his foot down etc etc but i played a week ago i might be misremembering). despite it going bad leander seems to still think hes on okay terms with vere, and i think its interesting how before the twenty questions he asks you your opinion on the others, and if you're too negative he talks them all up (he apparently thinks theyre his friends after all!) and if you're too positive he warns you about how dangerous they are (makes sense given they. are. and he might feel guilty about letting you go wandering in a town known for its monsters alone). ive seen people trying to spin that as manipulative of him but currently to me it more just reads like trying to defend his friends vs trying to look out for you. but maybe i am just colorblind!

speakingof the questions though given the whole 'information is currency' thing and the fact you have an option to end the questions early i wonder if theyre a variable that will have an affect later... you ask too many questions there, you accrue some sort of debt

I DIDNT MEAN TO WRITE THIS MUCH ABOUT JUST HIM LMAO this is what i mean when i say it got me. im thinking thoughts. i want to know what his problem is so bad. anyway to end not JUST talking about him i like how ais' bracelet vaguely looks like a shimenawa, and i like how specifically its on the arm that doesnt have the tentacle 'tattoo' 🤔 also something i like about the flowers they gave them all is leander's is white lily but they gave ais the spider lily. extremely toxic, and a notorious symbol of the afterlife growing along the shores of a river that connects it to ours, but also like very associated w yanderes by anime lmao which seems to run contrary to what we've seen of him so far. i also think its fun here that part of its japanese name, higan, means the far shore. i think its connotations of the dead + remembering of the dead (since it blooms around the time of ohigan) feels like it fits with how the people who drink from the spring are technically preserved and remembered inside tha groupmind

the flower choices are very fun since only leander, ais and vere got toxic plants... kuras got a medicinal one and mhin got one with bitter but technically edible berries. alright the last thing ive wanted to mention to someone is that to treat us at the start it's obvious kuras would have had to touch our hands/arms, even if only accidentally, given we wake up without a shirt or bandages, but we never are given the chance to realize that and that he's unaffected too. actually we aren't told how we got to the clinic, are we? maybe im just forgetting. did he just happen to walk out there and see us, did another named character, was it known about or a complete accident to discover? id talk about my ideas for the curse but i didnt mean to send you five paragraphssss

OK... leaves this essay in ur inbox and runs. ty for your time, can you tell youre the first person ive been able to talk about this game to lmfao

hey Leander how about we find out what the fuck your deal is over dinner some time.

No, but i dig the amount of symbolism the team has put in these characters. Gives stuff to chew on while waiting and im a slut for symbolism.

I can see why Leander is like this with Vere, everyone seems to have issues with the Senobium and Vere is literally and metaphorically tied to their will. having such an old and powerful (dangerous) being would pull at his savior complex imo, regardless of what may have happened between them. (can you imagine leander saying/trying to break the enchantment on vere's collar, failling, and vere holding a grudge b/c he seems like the type)

Leander has some odd relationships imo, even compared to the others. he's got a real friends with everyone but is emotionally distant + avoid conflict (as seen repeatedly in the bar) vibe. he's one of the cast who's been around the city the longest (after vere and kuras) and i've been wondering why he targets Ais specifically with murder attempts. is it just 'i hate your vibe, you wanna make out after i poison you a few times?' is it really just the groupmind? In the oracle bg you can feel/hear something under the earth as you near the seaspring and i wonder if leader's thing (plants growing out of the grates + the silent crypt that keeps getting mentioned + 'as above so below' on the hound flyers) isn't kind of competing with it, creating a rivalry in that way. i'm dying to know what the fuck their deal is.

Which kind of leads into why i think Mhin is so so hostile with Ais: we know Mhin has some weird curse of their own involving a fucked up bird thing and i wonder if that entity is causing friction with Ocdeus. b/c mhin and vere's dynamic is pretty different, meaning it's not just a monster thing.

then again Ais might be lying to us about the whole 'for no reason' thing and we have no idea what happened between the five of them before we got there.

I always kind of assumed Kuras had gloves on while dealing with us since he's a (hopefully, maybe) a responsible doctor. but initially when he finds us? does he know more then he's pretending to with our curse? does it effect divine beings??? i need to know

thank you for the asks! you are also the first person I've talked to about this game lol

[heartandsoulcomic]

when did Sarafina realize she was colorblind?

Sarafina’s almost complete achromatopsia was discovered when she was about five years old.

It was actually Frisk who first figured it out…

--------------------------------------------------

Frisk walked into the kitchen to make some after school snacks, and was surprised to see Sarafina already sitting at the table, coloring with crayons. The kindergartener usually had too much pent-up energy after class just to sit around, and Frisk would have to corral her from the backyard, giggling and running around her teenage sibling before coming inside to eat.

Sarafina glanced back at Frisk as they walked up to her, but immediately went back to scribbling on the papers set out before her, barely muttering a hello, ears drooping.

Oh dear.

They ruffled the soft fur on Sarafina’s head between her little horns. “Hey Sweetheart, how was your day?”

Sarafina just shrugged, and picked up another crayon.

Okay, try a different approach.

Frisk pulled up a chair. “Can I color with you?”

Another shrug, but a soft “Sure” as well.

Frisk reached for a sheet of paper. “So, what are we working on today --”

They faltered as they saw all the drawings in front of Sarafina. Or rather, the same drawing over and over.

A red house with a brown roof, pink and purple flowers in window beds, sitting on green grass with a blue sky and yellow sun above it. As close as a five-year-old could get to making the same wobbly picture, copy after copy.

“Are you… practicing this drawing?” Frisk frowned. “Your teacher isn’t giving you homework yet, is she?”

A small shake of her head. “No. I just wanna get the colors right.”

Frisk kept their voice light, but it was tinged with concern. “Aw, sweetheart, coloring is for fun. As long as you like it, it’s the right color.”

She sniffled. “B-but I got them wrong. Miss Jenny said.”

Before Frisk could ask why in the world a kindergarten teacher would tell a child they were coloring wrong, Sarafina started crying.

“But it w-wasn’t my fault! We were suposta read the colors on the paper to color the picture right, b-but the other kids tore the labels offa the crayons!”

Sarafina swiped angrily at her tears “I asked for new ones, but Miss Jenny told me to use the same ones as everybody. A-and she got mad after and told me I s-shouldn’t have colored it wrong just ‘cause I didn’t get what I wanted. But I d-didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, I’m sure you didn’t…” Frisk scooped Sarafina into a hug.  “Let’s get our snacks, okay?”

One last sniffle. “Okay.”

Frisk put Sarafina down on the counter, thinking furiously as they pulled carrot sticks and string cheese from the fridge.

The kids had torn the labels off…

“Could you pass me an apple?”

Sarafina wrinkled her nose and poked at the fruit bowl next to her, filled with green granny apples Toriel had just bought. “I can’t eat those, I’m ‘lurgic, remember?”

Frisk smiled and quirked an eyebrow. “Intolerant, not allergic. But I’m not. Apple?”

The little girl made a face, but passed the fruit to them.

Frisk turned the green fruit over in their hands. Carefully they asked, “Sarafina? Sweetheart, what color would you call this?”

Sarafina blinked at them. “Apples are red.”

Frisk held the apple up. “Not green?”

A stubborn frown crossed her face. “Apples are red. My alphabet books said so.”

“I see. What about my shirt?”

“Huh?”

“What color is my shirt?” They pulled at the fabric of the shirt, a blue button-down with red accents on the sleeves and collar.

Sarafina stared, growing visibly upset. “I-I dunno. What color is it supposed to be?”

Frisk let out a slow breath. “Oh, Sweetheart, I think I know what’s going on… we should talk to Mom and Sans about taking you to an optometrist.”

Sarafina’s eyes widened, surprise turning to worry. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“Absolutely not,” Frisk quickly reassured her. “But I think you might see things a little differently than most people. That’s why you were having trouble today. We should probably go to the optometrist to be sure.”

Frisk handed Sarafina a string cheese and picked her up. “And I think we should move you to a different kindergarten class. Your teacher sounds like a butthead.”

“Frisk!” Sarafina giggled “You’re not suposta call people names!”

Frisk grinned at her. “No, you’re not supposed to call people names. If I have significant evidence of someone being a butthead, I’m calling them a butthead.”

Sarafina laughed again. “Nooo, Mama said!”

“Alright, I guess it’s not fair if I can call people names and you can’t.”

Frisk exaggeratedly glanced around.

“Do you want to? Just once?”

Sarafina froze for a moment, then very, very quietly whispered, “Miss Jenny’s a butthead.” And burst into giggles.

Frisk carried the still giggling Sarafina to the living room, sweeping up the identical drawings and tossing them into the trash on the way.

[bondsmagii]

I've got a treat for you

okay so right off the bat I am colorblind. I just realized this alone might give away who I am to some of the people following your blog. eh, fuck it. we balling.

I have protanopia. my color wheel is a strong assortment of green, brown, yellow, and blue. everything else I cant see. no purples, no reds. none of that shit.

double homicide right here is the fact that I draw and do art. ouch.

I pretty much sat down and forced myself to memorize the location of colors on a color wheel in order to figure out what colors I need and where. turns out, sometimes I try to make a color more prominent by taking the colors I cant see and making them more intense.

I have, for the longest time, been getting CW on my works for color warnings. I never know why. like its like CW: Color. and I never understood.

until now.

turns out, when I overcompensate my missing colors, I end up making them WAY too bright, and creates a heavy eyestrain.

I'VE BEEN BLINDING MY POOR MUTUALS.

oh my GOD lmao. this is absolutely brilliant. I remember hearing a story once about somebody getting asked about their interesting colour choices for their art, assuming it was a conscious artistic choice, but then they were like "what do you mean?" because it looked fine to them but guess what. colourblind. they thought they were using green but they were not.

colour vision is honestly one of those things that absolutely fascinates me because there is such variation. I wonder how the world looks through other people's eyes a lot, because I have insane colour vision and I'm out here seeing shrimp colours, and I do wonder what the world looks like to others. especially as I'm a photographer, so when I fiddle around with my camera's settings in order to make it more accurately represent what I see with the naked eye, I wonder if it looks weird or over-saturated to somebody with more average colour vision.

fun fact about this is that even in the dead of night I never see black, just varying shades of indigo, so I'm a good person to follow in a haunted house or whatever. trust me. follow me unquestioningly.

[wisteria-lodge]

Crowley’s Roman Look is Very Strange

I didn’t. I didn’t want to be this person. But Aziraphale is sitting RIGHT THERE looking like A TOTALLY RESPECTABLE Roman citizen circa 40 AD. Maybe the hair might be unusual, but the Romans LOVED blonde hair. They thought it was cool and foreign and exotic in sort of a sexy way.

But Crowley is so historically confused. And I think the production design is too good and Neil Gaiman is too on top of his game for this to be accidental. It must mean something. 

I - HAIR

What is on your head Crowley. Are you the emperor? Are you a victorious general currently participating in a victory parade? 

Sure, you sometimes see laurel wreathes in portraits. But FUNERAL portraits.

That crown is a symbolic thing, to celebrate your victories in life. It’s not STREET WEAR. 

And okay. It’s 40-41 AD. Caligula is emperor. Military chic is in. If you’re a guy, you’re wearing your hair short and un-styled (LIKE AZIRAPHALE.) Those dramatic little spit curls wouldn’t show up until at least Nero. 

But actually, pulling back for a second - are you appreciating the absurdity that is this hairstyle? Because it took me a second to notice that only the FRONT HALF is curled.

Which is a Roman hairstyle. But it’s a Roman LADY hairstyle. 

(It tends to get called ‘Flavian Hair’ because the Flavian era ladies of the 70s-90s got pretty extreme about it, but you still had less... dramatic versions in the 40s.)

That’s you, Crowley. That’s your style reference. Honestly, if you had just kept your hair long everybody would have thought you were a cool barbarian chieftain or something. 

II - CLOTHES

The black is fine. It’s eccentric, but fine. Romans wore black. Wearing black was Cato the Younger’s *thing.* It gets associated with mourning and/or protest, but it would have been really visually confusing to have Crowley wear some other color. This gets a pass.

Nope, my question is about his articles of clothing. There’s a charcoal grey garment that seems to be a toga + undershirt. It’s looped over Crowley’s arm, which is a classic toga give away. 

That part’s fine. But over the top, he’s wearing a true black... short cape? Shawl? it’s really hard to tell, because whatever it is, he is NOT wearing it correctly (is it folded in half?) Also, that irregular red zigzag pattern is very strange and I do not recognize it from anywhere. Seriously, I can’t even decide on a continent for this garment.

III - JEWELRY

Emperor Nero usually gets credit for inventing the first sunglasses, after he started watching gladiators fight though a green gemstone. He won’t be emperor for about ten years. But hey, he probably got the idea from somewhere. And dark glasses are just a really sensible way to hide your snakey eyes. This is also the first time we see Crowley put up some proper emotional barriers, so it’s a good place for the glasses to be introduced. (@theladyzephyr has a wonderful meta that goes into a lot more detail here.) 

So the sunglasses are good. BUT THAT BROOCH.

Okay. This is Aziraphale wearing a fibula plate brooch

It’s a really Roman style, and a really Roman shape (a “pelta”)

I’ve never seen one that looks like angel wings, but a Roman citizen is going to look at that and see a soppily patriotic Imperial Eagle. How nice that this lovely man from Germania/Greece has made some money and become such an exemplary citizen!

But Crowley is wearing a penannular (pin-and-ring) brooch

That’s not roman. That’s a style from the British Isles (Irish, Pictish, Scottish, Welsh.) It says barbarian, boonies, outskirts of the civilized world. 

And nobody @ me with pictures of pin-and-ring brooches from Rome. Those are small, cheap, and undecorated. They’re the cultural equivalent of safety pins. This is patterned like a snake, and it’s the size of Crowley’s palm. 

AND THAT’S ANOTHER THING. They didn’t do snake-themed jewelry in the British isles. Snakes didn’t have the best cultural associations there, and there weren’t too many of them there to begin with. This isn’t something Crowley picked up because “hey, a snake, cool,” and then got attached too. This must have been commissioned special. 

But you know who LOVED snake jewelry? 

ROMANS. 

Romans associated snakes with healing and rebirth - clinics sometimes had lil snakes crawling around on the ground to give the place good vibes. 

You cannot tell me that Crowley could have existed in Rome for any length of time and not picked up some of this jewelry. Which leads me to my conclusion:

IV - CROWLEY IS EXTREMELY NEW IN TOWN

The unfashionable pin and hair? The clothing draped the wrong way? The cultural colorblindness of wearing a laurel crown when you’re not supposed to? Crowley looks like a tacky tourist because he is one. He’s not staying here long, he “just nipped in for a quick temptation.”

He’s in a bad mod because he’s had an awful day, everyone keeps looking at him funny, the temptation was a complete bust, he has culture shock, and now he’s just trying to get a drink. But they don’t have any PROPER drinks like ALE or MEAD here, so he just orders “whatever’s drinkable.” He’s even not sure what they drink in Rome. 

But then Aziraphale shows up and invites him to lunch some place fashionable. So everything’s going to be okay.

[thehugwizard]

About the colorblind thing: okay so fun fact most people are only able to perceive certain colors and they are not color blind. Basically your brain looks at two different shades of light blue and tells you they’re the same shade (fun fact: women tend to have higher color perception than men and younger people better than older people. It’s also why women can look at two shades of something and be like ‘which one do you like better?’ And the guy is like ‘uh idk they’re the same color’ and it’s because they literally are to his brain).

It’s the exact same phenomenon behind the blue black/gold white dress thing. It’s also why people can look at the same thing and think it’s different colors. They’re both technically right because that’s what their brain perceives the colors as.

Another thing is that your monitor can mess you up.

I know from experience and tests and stuff that I have high color perception and I had to turn up the brightness and turn off night shift in order to see the numbers. The 1 is definitely easier to see that the 5 though.

So no, it’s not about being color blind, it’s about your color perception. Decreased color perception does not necessarily equate to color blindness, so it’s stupid when those tests say that everyone who can’t pass them is automatically color blind. No you’re not necessarily, you just might have lower color perception.

Does this make sense? Sorry if I rambled too much, I just love science

Huh, intriguing, i was told i was dueteronomolous, which i believe is impaired red-green perception

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 115

Extra special thanks for this chapter go out to @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog. Besides being regular beta-readers for me, Bael really really wanted a chapter with more Charly/Coffey, and Charly happily obliged by joining my and Bael’s regularly scheduled live-write of the chapter. We. Had. A. Blast.  It was  a shining beacon of love and laughter in my life, let me tell you.

I walked from the kitchen to the entry just as the notification went off that someone was standing outside. Still laughing from the comment Tyche made about the chicken breasts we were currently stuffing, my smile didn’t drop an inch as I saw Charly and Coffey standing there. “Hey, you two! About time!”

Charly held her head high and ignored my comment, while Coffey grinned back. “Best for last, you know,” he tossed with a wink as he handed over a bottle of red wine. “I know it doesn’t go with chicken but…”

“Stomachs are colorblind,” I finished, in sync with Charly and Tyche like we had rehearsed it. Conor and Maverick burst into laughter while Arthur just shook his head at our antics.

Charly stretched her neck to look over Tyche’s shoulder. “Those looks like…”

“We know,” Arthur groaned, eliciting another chuckle from everyone. “Tyche just mentioned that.”

“The - feta? - cheese is not helping your case, I’m just saying.”

Tyche tried her hardest to scowl and made a shooing gesture. “Please don’t ruin dinner before it’s even cooked please?”

“If I promise it won’t make dinner sound obscene, can I ask a question?” Charly ventured. All eyes turned toward her, since it was probably the first time she had ever asked permission to ask a question. Once I slowly nodded, she took a deep breath. “Have you ever tried rabbit?” The next part was rushed. “ImeanIhavearecipeforrabbitstewthat’stodiefor, andI’mprettysureAntoinewouldlikerabbitragout-”

“Charly,” Coffey intoned softly, reaching out to gently scritch the back of her neck.

She stopped talking and bit her lips. “I just mean - “

“It’s okay,” I assured them before anyone else in the room exploded from the laughter they were trying to hold back for her sake. “I really would love that recipe, Charly. I actually have a recipe for lapine ragout that Antoine adores, but the only other recipe I have is for coney pie.”

Charly nodded enthusiastically while practically collapsing on Coffey’s lap. Still nodding, she pulled a file up on her datapad and flicked it towards me. “Can I ask about the rabbits?” she asked softly, head twitching when Coffey scowled and - I assume - gently tugged the hair above where he was still scratching her neck. “Doesn’t hurt to ask!” she complained.

“I swear, it’s fine,” Arthur stated firmly. “You would be shocked at how hilarious she finds this story.”

Tyche rolled her eyes hard enough to move her neck. “And it puts some things into perspective…” she sighed.

Conor, on the other hand, gave me a hard look when I opened my mouth. “You know the rule.”

Dropping my head back in defeat, I took a deep breath. “Yes, I will make coney pie tomorrow for dinner.” Antoine, Charly, and Coffey all looked at me in confusion. “Conor hates hearing about my near-death experiences, so when I tell this story I have to make him rabbit pie for dinner.”

“So he can eat your enemies,” Charly nodded sagely.

“Pretty much,” I shrugged.

“Wait- “ she sputtered, realizing the rest of what I explained. “You had a near death experience? With a bunny!?”

All I could do was giggle. “Yes. I have a deathly fear of bunnies because one almost killed me once.”

“Twas no ordinary rabbit - it had a vicious streak a mile wide….” Arthur added, funny accent and all.

“May I ask that no one interrupt Sophia until she explains how she managed a real-life reenactment of a Monty Python sketch?” Coffey asked, leaning forward so far that Charly had to twist to stay on his lap.

“The truth is stranger than fiction,” Arthur nodded, tapping his glass gently against the other man’s. “Sophia, take it away.”

Shaking my head with a grin, I obliged. “You have to know, Tyche and I grew up in a very backwater, uneducated family, and also in hereditary poverty.   So, it was perfectly normal - to us, anyway - to have pets like chickens, or goats… or rabbits… Food animals.  Well, when I was eight, my uncle decided I was old enough for my first pet rabbit.  A good, big one.” Tyche shook her head with a smirk, and I just shot her a glance as I kept speaking. “Well, Snickers wasn’t quite hand-tamed. And the only way to hand-tame a wild rabbit is to…. Well, hold it, honestly.  So I would sit in the yard, with Snickers in my lap, and hold him while he ate grass.”

Maverick opened his mouth to ask the question he always loved to ask, but Charly gently put her hand on his wrist and shook her head. 

I still answered the question I knew would have come. “I know, it sounds like the most harmless thing in the world, right? Pet rabbit, in my lap, chilling out and eating fresh grass.  The thing is… Rabbits are burrowers. And they have these wicked claws on their back feet just for that.  So, when you hold them, you have to hold their back feet together, or they kick to get away.”

Charly gasped softly as she realized what was coming, quickly clamping a hand over her mouth.

I nodded. “Yep. One day, Snickers got started, and I didn’t have his back feet as tightly as I should have, and… well, he opened my arm up from wrist to elbow before I could let him go.  I screamed, my mother came out, took me to the emergency room.  I’ve been terrified of rabbits ever since.”

“That’s awful!” Charly cried out, jumping up to come hug me.

As I patted her on the back, Coffey sat up straighter and shook his head. “Poppy, she’s okay now. And besides, didn’t you hear her mention how ‘backwater’ her family was?” He arched an eyebrow at me, eye gleaming. “I bet that rabbit was dinner that same night.”

“Bunny dumplings,” Tyche confirmed with a wink. “If we didn’t know what else to do with it, it was dumplings.”

Arthur shook his head with a chuckle. “I would have thought you would be upset that she ate her pet, Miss Harper.”

She made a rude noise in return. “Are you kidding!? The first thing I killed with a bow was a rabbit.” Head high, she flexed her biceps. “Do you know how fast those things are!?”

“Nice and fat one, too,” Coffey added. “And she found rosemary to roast it with.”

“And lemon balm,” she added. “And mint, but that stuff grows everywhere.”

I nearly groaned at the memory of spit-roasted wild game.

“So, you two have been through the whole After together?” Conor asked as dinner hit the table.

Charly nodded enthusiastically as she took a bite. “Yeah, we were friends Before - oh my gosh, this balsamic reduction is perfect, Tyche - and found each other not long after the End.  After a while…” she trailed off, waving between them as much as she could, considering she was still sitting on Coffey’s lap.

We all nodded.  I was, honestly, happy to see two people who knew each other that long survive the end of the world together.  “So, I knew Charly did archery - she’s shown me a few times, but I’m terrible at it, turns out. What about you, Coffey?” I paused before realizing how intrusive that might be. “And if you don’t want to answer, it’s okay,” I rushed to clarify.

He smiled in reassurance. “I was security, Before, and… security After, in a way.” Chewing thoughtfully on a bite of bread, he glanced at something none of us could see. “I had a gun, at first - being a black man who grew up in NorthAm before it was NorthAm, it was more prudent than it was deviant at the time.”

“I don’t blame you,” I grumbled, while Tyche nodded and scowled furiously. We were horrifically embarrassed to be related to some of the reasons he needed a gun in the Before.

He tilted his head in a conciliatory fashion, as though he could tell what I was thinking. “In the After, bullets were hard to come by and… not very prudent, it turned out. They drew a lot of attention. Whereas our sneaky Charly…”

“Probably made traps,” Arthur finished nonchalantly.  When a few of us glanced at him, he rolled his eyes. “Oh come on! No one can tell me the queen of pranks and engineering over here did not booby-trap anywhere she was living within an inch of her life and the lives around her.”

Charly beamed, while Coffey just chuckled. “I honestly don’t believe the margin of error was quite that wide, to be frank. But it was safe enough that, before long, we accidentally had an enclave.”

I snorted in an attempt not to choke on my drink, while Conor and Maverick were both glancing at Arthur - the resident warlord.

Arthur just blinked in an almost placid manner. “I’m actually impressed. You started rebuilding by accident.”

“Do I look like someone who decides to take over the world?” Charly pointed out. After a chorus of Yes all around the table, she rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault that hobbit holes are a strategically sound idea.”

“Apocalyptic Tolkien,” Tyche whistled. “I like it.”

“Sophia would have loved the library,” Coffey laughed.

My head shot up hard enough to make my neck hurt. “Library?”

He nodded. “Charly had the idea to go rescue every book we could find on camping, how-tos, engineering, historical infrastructure…”

“You just passed every class you are ever in, with flying colors,” Arthur nodded. “I had to make most of my people read - though we did end up with a library and decent bathing infrastructure.”

“Siege engines, Mr. Farro. We were building siege engines.”

He muttered something that sounded like “I will make up classes for you to pass,” but I was willing to bet that he would never admit it. Out loud, he just added “The fact that you not only read voluntarily but got other people to read without being forced has earned you extra credit.” She opened her mouth to object, but he held up a hand. “I’m being entirely serious, and no I won’t take it back.”

“I wasn’t going to try to survive an apocalypse without baths,” she scowled, stabbing a potato. “We may have ended the world, but we weren’t heathens.” Chewing so fast I thought she was going to choke, she immediately started asking Arthur about how he organized plumbing for his group.

“Trenches, aqueducts, and basically I got lucky because someone had a construction background.  We had some records of how Romans built their sewers with something close enough to the materials we had to work with so… it worked out.

With that, the conversation took off in the direction of infrastructure for post-apocalypse settlements, with Conor adding his opinion everywhere possible.  I knew there was no changing the topic, so I just shook my head and tried to keep up.

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[loganscanons]

colorblind

Characters: Lotus and Ivan

Summary: Lotus and Ivan discover Ivan is colorblind

As she and Ivan made their way through the produce section of the grocery store, Lotus glanced down at her list. Ivan pushed the cart and habitually scanned the store, his eyes sweeping from stranger to stranger. Being in public was easier when Ivan was with her. She didn’t have to think about strangers bothering her with him looming beside her.

“Can you grab two green bell peppers?” Lotus asked him. Ivan nodded and left the cart with her by the apple produce stand. She reached into the cart and grabbed a crinkled and much reused white paper bag and began filling it with apples.

Ivan returned a moment later with the two bell peppers, which he placed in the cart. As Lotus turned to put the apples in the cart, she paused. She stared at one of the peppers. She glanced up at Ivan, who was again idly scanning the store, and back down at the peppers.

“Ivan,” she said.

Ivan’s attention flicked to her immediately.

“This is red,” she said, picking up the bell pepper he’d put in the cart.

Ivan stared at her and signed, <<It’s…red?>> His response seemed unsure.

“Yes, I asked for green. Not that it really matters,” she admitted. Ivan shrugged, but Lotus continued to look at him. She turned the red bell pepper over in her hand.

<<I can go get another green one,>> he signed.

Lotus began to hand the red bell pepper to him, but she hesitated. A thought dawned on her. Frowning slightly, she pulled her hand back and asked, “Ivan, are you colorblind?”

<<No! Of course not.>>

She turned around and picked up an apple. “What color is this?” she asked.

<<…Red,>> he answered.

“Are you just saying that because you know apples are red? You know, some apples are green.” She returned the apple to the produce display and picked up another one from a different section of apples.

“What about this one?” she asked.

He hesitated before signing, <<Green…?>>

A smile twitched on her lips, “Babe, I think you might be colorblind.”

<<I’m not colorblind,>> he insisted.

“This is red,” she said, holding the apple up to him before she placed it back on the display.

<<I’m not colorblind,>> he signed again. <<I can go get another green pepper.>>

“No, that’s okay,” Lotus said. She sounded amused. “A red one is fine. I’m going to go grab some lettuce.” She left him staring at the two bell peppers in the cart.

--

A week later, Lotus was prepping for dinner, and Ivan offered to help.

“You can cut up one of the bell peppers,” she said.

Ivan retrieved the bell peppers from the fridge and paused, staring at them for a moment. He placed one pepper back in the fridge, then tapped the counter to get Lotus’s attention from the other side of the kitchen. She looked in his direction.

<<I think…I might be colorblind,>> Ivan signed, looking back at the pepper he’d just put on the counter.

“Oh, really?” she asked, again sounding amused. “What gave you that idea?”

[stealinghero]

hi there!! how would the Lupin gang + Zenigata and Fujiko react to a blue-yellow colorblind s/o? like one day the s/o totally forgets they’re colorblind and they argue with them about the color of an object, fully believing in themselves until the guys are like “???? bro can you not see blue???” :))

ô__O that’s interesting! XD Let me see...   (I had this picture as reference)

I went with a scenario where the s/o can’t distinguish between citrus fruits because of their colorblindness

~~~

Lupin:

- at first he thinks they want to make a joke, because they never had any problems with colors, right? They told him about a blue sky and their favourite blue jeans

- but when they argue with him that a piece of YELLOW lemon is an orange, he starts to doubt his s/o

- at first he will say nothing but he will read a lot about people who can’t see yellow and might ask them one day about how they see the world

- he won’t make them feel uncomfortable, he’s just curious how they might see blue and/or yellow things and he tells them that it’s okay if the sky isn’t really blue for them

~~~

Jigen:

- he will laugh and give his s/o a lemon while telling them it‘s an orange, telling them that they are right and laughs about their stupidity when they fully bite in it

- he doesn’t think too much about it. They always told him how yellow sunflowers are their favourite flowers.

- until it happens again and he might get a clue that there is a “sickness” that makes you unable to see specific colors. He only knows about red/green, but blue/yellow is something new for him

- he isn’t shy to confront his s/o, asking them why they never told him about it. He looks at himself like he is the one at fault, making his s/o lie to him

~~~~

Goemon:

- he will completely bicker with them about a yellow lemon and an orange. Why is his s/o so stubborn to think they know better?! Can’t they see the colours right?!

- he might even full on pout because his s/o thinks they know better

- in the end it doesn’t matter that they can’t see colours but that they insist to know better even if they’re at fault

- when his s/o finally tells him, he grins at them and tells them that from now on he will tell them if things are yellow or truly blue and that they can depend on him

~~~~

Zenigata:

- he full on argues with his s/o but is a lot more gentle with them, asking them why they won’t believe him

- he will read a lot about it and then just shrug and live on. It’s nothing serious and his s/o doesn’t have too much trouble with it, so why bother?

- but if his s/o is bothered, he will try his best to assist them in any way possible, even if this means telling them clearly what colour he sees when looking at something

- if his s/o is stubborn, so is he. Despite knowing better, he won’t shy away to go head on with them about any colour discussion. But he will take it lightly and smile a bit while arguing.

~~~~

Fujiko:

- she nods and accepts it. That’s why her s/o sometimes looks so crazy with their choice of colours.

- she will assist them in going throught their wardrobe and even labeling clothes with the “right” colours for her s/o. She does that without the knowledge of her s/o and gets a scolding for meddling with their life.

- but when her s/o finally confesses, she will just sigh and nod telling them that she loves them for their whole package and not some stupid ability to see colours

- sometimes she messes with her s/o, giving them mixed lemons and oranges in a bowl. But she learns that her s/o can differ those two fruits by the shade of grey when mixed together. That arouses her fascination and she might be more curious about how her s/o sees the world

[keelywolfe]

Drabble: Humbugs (baon)

Summary: Edge isn’t quite feeling the season yet.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic, Skellies in Love, Fluff, Chickens!!

Note: For the 12 Days of Cheer!

Day #1: Ugly Sweaters

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

“hey, babe, come outside for a mo’?”

Edge glanced up from cookies he was removing from the sheet to see Stretch’s head poking through the kitchen door, a ski cap perched on top of his skull. It was the last tray of this batch and Edge left them to cool, wiping his hands on a towel and hanging up his apron before following Stretch out the door. His husband waited impatiently for Edge to slide on his shoes and jacket, his own gloved hands rapping against each other like an absent game of patty cake.

He allowed Edge to take a hand to still his fidgeting, but for once, resisted his attempt to steal a kiss, walking backwards towards the back door and pulling Edge along, “come on, come on!”

“What are you showing me?” Edge asked, a touch warily. There wasn’t enough snow for anything too worrying, but with Stretch, it was best to be vigilant.

“would you just come on?” Stretch laughed. “it’s not bad or anything!”

Probably best to reserve judgement on that. The sky was overcast above them, the yard mottled in snowy patches mixed with the brown of dying grass. This was the worst part of winter, in Edge’s opinion, too warm to play in the meagre snow, too cold for anything else.

The chicken coop door was open, all three of the ladies pecking at the ground in hopes of late season bugs. That was where Stretch led him, sweeping his arms out theatrically, presenting the very same chickens that Edge saw on a daily basis.

“look!” he said cheerfully.

“You knitted them sweaters,” Edge said slowly. He crouched down and all three chickens abandoned their scratching to run to him, clucking rapturously as he gently patted them. Each one of them was wearing a tiny sweater, their wings pulled carefully through armholes. He’d noticed Stretch knitting furiously the past couple weeks, it was hard to miss. The levels of swearing that floated out of the living room was directly proportional to the amount of stitches he managed to drop per row.

This was not the result he’d been expecting.

“not just any sweaters!” Stretch said gleefully. “gyftmas sweaters!”

He supposed that they could represent Gyftmas, in the loosest possible use of the term. Nugget’s sweater was bright green with a pattern of what might be a white tree, if one had been locked in a room for thirty-odd years and never seen a tree before. Noodle’s sweater was a cheerful red and it would have contrasted nicely with her white feathers if not for the lopsided wreath stitched on the front.

It was Dumpling’s shirt that promised to haunt Edge’s memories like a blot of mustard smeared over Marley’s ghost. To begin with, it was purple, hardly the color that anyone who was not colorblind or perhaps nursing a head injury would choose for a red hen. A geometric pattern ran through it in white, but it was the picture on the front that would send a sensible child fleeing in terror; a wretched, malformed reindeer that might have stumbled out of a nuclear testing facility as early as that morning, staring out into the world with huge, goggling eyes. The nose of the creature grimly blinked, but with an aggravatingly uneven rhythm and a random pattern of colors. It was a nightmare shirt spewed up from the bowels of clothing hell and forced to be carried on this earth by one small chicken.

Stretch was bouncing on his toes, nearly bubbling with excitement, waiting for him to pronounce judgement.

“They’re…” wonderful. Edge hesitated, the word dying unspoken. He couldn’t, he simply couldn’t, that lie refused to roll off his tongue. He veered down another lane and said, smoothly, “You did an excellent job, they’re very creative.”

To his relief, Stretch only laughed and said teasingly, “did you hurt yourself there? it’s okay, fashionista, they’re supposed to be ugly, go wild.”

“They’re hideous,” Edge said promptly. “If your intent was for them to be ugly, you’ve been successful beyond all hopes and dreams. A child who found one of those under their tree would block off their chimney next year. If Monsters wore those into battle centuries ago, they would have won the war--”

A hand over his mouth cut him off, but Stretch was laughing almost too hard to keep it there, “okay, grinch, i get the picture.” He replaced his hand with his mouth, a loud smacking kiss, but there was a bare hint of uncertainty as he drew back and asked, “they’re good ugly, though, right?”

“The very best ugly I could imagine,” Edge assured him. He drew Stretch down for another kiss, gentler this time, ignoring the indignant clucks of the chickens as their petting ceased.

Knowing Stretch, he’d be taking the ladies out for walks, the better to inflict his ghastly creations on New New Home. Equally likely, Edge would be at his side, walking along and watching as the people they met either laughed or cringed, and their humor would only make Stretch laugh all the harder, that happy delight there for Edge to watch and his own joy could never be mistaken for a bite of underdone potato.

As someone once said, there was nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humor, and there was no one in the world Edge would rather share it with.

Even if that happiness included a ugly sweater.

 -finis-