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cruelfeline · 2 years ago

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In Tanta We Trust Trailer Assessment

So, as some of y'all already know, a gameplay trailer for the Forspoken DLC dropped this morning, along with a small article providing a little more information.

Trailer is here. Article is here. Both are required foundational material for this post.

I'm going to try to organize my thoughts in some sort of reasonable manner, but I am having Many Thoughts, so it might come across as haphazard. I'll try to provide a little bulletpoint summary of major takeaways at the end.

Also: so much of this is just me theorizing. Any and all of it has a good chance of being false. I'm just trying to make sense of All of This... so don't mind me if it turns out that I'm super wrong. Chances are, I am!

Anyway... let's just get into it.

New Enemies

The trailer provides us with clear views of some of our new enemies, namely the Rheddig.

The Rheddig are very clearly bird-themed. Feathered headdresses, feathered shoulders to their armor, and a bird-like mask that @phoenixiancrystallist already called. It's a little difficult to get good detail on the rest of their outfits; our best close-up views happen during the very opening of the trailer while Cinta is absolutely demolishing them, and things move a bit too fast for me, personally, to get much detail. However! An important point:

The Rheddig soldiers appear to be able to use magic.

And it's not Cuff's magic. It's not metallic and golden, as one might have expected. Rather, it's this sort of cyan-blue color. We see it twice, I believe used by the same soldier: first to imbue their spear with this cyan-magic, then to summon the spear back after throwing it. I think. The camera cuts make it a little hard to tell, but I'm pretty sure that's what happening.

So that's interesting. Given that this looks like a generic Rheddig soldier, not some sort of "special enemy" type individual.

Next up is this fella.

It's very difficult to discern from a still shot (I encourage everyone to go watch the trailer for this), but this is a winged enemy who has some sort of... I'm not sure... maybe pieces of something? maybe birds? floating around it, at waist-height. Again, too much movement going on to be able to easily tell. The wings appear to be like standard bird wings with visible feathers. Ah, and the legs and feet! Well. There are no feet. But the legs appear to be made out of strands of twisted material that end in points rather than feet.

The way they're designed is very reminiscent of Nightmares, namely the Riven Carcasses.

Finally, we have... whatever in the world this is.

Honestly, I have no idea. It's huge. It's reptilian. It has wings and a tail, but both seem to be either covered in or at least partially comprised of golden metal displaying Rheddig symbolism (the sunbursts, for example). Same with the little helmet it's wearing. I can't tell if this is a regular fantasy animal that has been outfitted with armor, or if it's some sort of early, proto-Breakbeast, or what. I honestly have no idea.

Frey's Magic

We know that Frey gets a new set of spells to use in this DLC, but until this trailer, we didn't really know what they might be.

Now... well, good gosh, but I have some theories. Let's first take a look at some of the demonstrated spells.

We've got this AOE business that first lifts some enemies into the air, then appears to crystallize them into golden metal. It's hard to glean from still images, but watch this moment in the trailer. Those Rheddig in the second image, are actually frozen into their positions, like statues. It doesn't, however, seem to be permanent. In the trailer, Cinta comes in to do a follow-up attack, upon which the golden statues regain their human form and can move again as normal.

We have this golden spear that, when thrown into an enemy, likewise solidifies them into a statue of golden-metallic crystalline whatnot.

Traversal spells appear different, too. We've got this instead of Zip and Spin; no longer does Frey appear to use Sila's fire magic to grab onto the... very golden-looking crystals; rather, she uses a golden line. While she's doing so, her body seems... very reminiscent of Susurrus' metal when he's in humanoid form. Which is. Interesting. And while I was intrigued by her using her left hand here at first, when I went in-game and used Sila's Zip a few times, I found that Frey actually uses both her right and left hands for the spell. So that doesn't seem crucial here.

We've got this gravity-type spell. Frey starts off attacking a floor-bound enemy (of which there are several) with a golden sword - which seems very similar to Sila's sword, but clearly the wrong color - and ends up forming with appears to be a small black hole that subsequently ends up drawing her foes in. Very interesting in that, even though gravity magic is being used, we have no sign of Prav's powers.

Finally, we have this. Frey appears to gather a ball of golden energy in her right hand. She tosses it at the downed reptilian enemy, and it appears to... I'm not sure. Enter the beast? Gather energy? It's a little hard to tell with all the particle effects. Whatever it does, it ends up forming huge metallic spikes that seem to either erupt from the creature, or stab into it, or a combination of the two. And these metallic spikes look very similar in composition to Susurrus' humanoid form's metal.

Frey's Arms

Small observation here, but it has to be said: not only is Cuff - as we know him - gone, but the sunburst symbols he's been replaced with seem to be progressing along Frey's body. At least, that's what it seems like to me, given that Frey has them only on her right arm in some shots and then on both arms in others. It's obviously hard to tell the timing based on random in-game combat scenes, but this here:

This, I feel, is very likely the beginning of the DLC. It appears to be a cutscene. It involves Frey down (article states that she arrives in this time period injured), and it seems like an appropriate introduction to Tanta Cinta. If that's the case, and this is the opening, then it's very clear that Frey does not start out with any marks on her left arm.

It follows, then, that whatever is going on with those marks is progressive; she starts with a few marks on her right arm, and then they spread.

Frey's Magic and Arms: Discussion

So, let's just take a second here to address the most glaring aspect of all these new spells: they're golden. They're golden, and they appear to be metallic in nature, and some of that metal looks very similar to either the golden metal-crystals of the Break, or to Suss' body, or both.

Which leads me to one of my current theories regarding what's happening with both the spells and Frey's arms: something it going on with the bond between Cuff and Frey, and it's causing his powers to bleed into hers.

Crystalline gold metal is a symptom of the Break. And what is the Break but a mucked-up mix of Tantas' and Susurrus' powers? That's what we see on the Breakborn and the Breakbeasts (one of the bears' entries even describes the gold as crystalline). It's what we see in the Breakshards.

I don't know if this is intentional (on Frey's part) or not... though I personally worry that it's not. I worry that Susurrus is enacting his plan to drive Frey mad, except it's less about ruining her mental health and more about actually infecting her body with his essence. In the process, she gets access to his magic, but eventually... eventually, he takes her o ver. Or kills her. Whatever.

Mind you, it's also possible that this is a voluntary cooperation between the two of them, but... ehn. I'm not an optimistic person.

Especially with those lines in the DLC article: "[Frey] also learns a grim truth about herself" and "...Frey sets out to discover the truth behind these events, save Athia… and perhaps also herself." It wouldn't surprise me if that grim truth was that she's being taken over, or dying, or otherwise unable to live with a whole-ass demon contained in her body.

I am Concerned. Let's just leave it at that.

Tanta Cinta

I actually don't have much to say about Cinta. She's not a focal point for me in this, though her combat style, with the toranas liberally used, is looking excellent. I can't say too much about her spells because they're just too particle effect-y for me to make easy sense of in this trailer.

However, she apparently slits throats. Which is neat.

Where Is My Son

So, obviously, the most important thing to me, personally, in this DLC is Cuff's status and involvement.

Thus far, we haven't heard his voice, or had any mention of him in any of the written promotional material. Nothing. If I'm assessing the above screenshot correctly, he doesn't seem to be on Frey's right arm at this point (suspected opening) of the DLC. Maybe... it's hard to see. Anyway: no sign of Cuff.

Which is reeeeeally weird. Like. Either they've just cut him out of this - which I guess is not impossible but also would be (a) super strange and (b) crushingly disappointing to me personally, or whatever is going on with him is spoiler-y enough that they don't want to mention him for fear of giving story away.

It's uncomfortable for me, though. Not even any little birds when Frey does her strange new spells... I miss my wrist idiot!

I really hope they didn't just replace him with Cinta for the DLC, though I'm prepped for it. If that's the case, then I shall be a sad little lynx without my sassy commentary buddy for my playthrough. Hope he makes it through :<

The Gloaming

At the very, very end of the trailer, we have Frey asking someone what "the gloaming" does, to which an unfamiliar male voice replies: "It destroys Athia, of course."

There's no indication of what The Gloaming is. In terms of definition, "gloaming" refers to twilight, or dusk. That time of the evening when it's not quite fully dark yet, but the street lamps have come on, and you can't see as well in the waning light.

But what it is in-game... no idea.

I don't know if it involves how Rheddah has used Cuff, or if it's a totally separate thing. Don't know if it's a plan, or a machine, or a creature, or what.

Whatever it is, one thing is really apparent: people want to destroy Athia. Not conquer it, not take it over. Destroy it. Which is really, really harsh. Like... I've seen so many stories where countries are being taken over and, say, assimilated into an empire. But this doesn't appear to be that. Between how Cuff behaves in the main game, and this specific trailer line, it really seems like someone truly wants Athia to not exist. Which is much more interesting than simply wanting to rule it.

Closing Summary

All right. That was a lot. Let me see if I can just bullet-point my main feelings/observations...

the Rheddig wear highly bird-themed armor and appear to be able to use a cyan-colored magic

one of the enemies that fights alongside the Rheddig has avian wings, can fly, and doesn't appear to have feet

Cuff is either totally gone or has changed into a different form characterized by metal line and sunburst markings on Frey's arm; said markings appear to start on her right arm and eventually spread to cover both arms

it's impossible to say whether Frey can still use all of her Tanta magic; the spells showcased in the trailer appear to have a gold, metallic theme and crystallize her opponents into golden metal; this appears very similar to the Break's effects to me

Frey learns a "grim truth" about herself; no idea what this is, but my main worry is that it has something to do with Cuff infecting and destroying her, something involving how her new spells seem Break-like... basically, I worry for our daughter's safety and our wrist idiot's ability to function without killing her

I don't know know what The Gloaming is, but I assume it is not good; I likewise do not know who the man speaking at the end of the trailer is, but I assume he is not good

basically: I want my wrist idiot, and I would like him not to kill his only source of metal polish

All right! I think that's all I can manage for now. I'm sure I'll end up having more thoughts as the weeks go by... maybe we'll luck into some more content reveals!

If not, then we've only got three weeks to wait until this launches c:

#forspoken spoilers #in tanta we trust trailer

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tc-doherty · 1 year ago

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9, 11, 19 and 20 for the asks! :D

Favourite OC?

Ithea, it's no contest! She's just been part of my life for so long. After her I really feel like Dante needs serious consideration because he was a side character from an RP in middle school who I continued thinking about and draw pictures of until I decided to put him in a novel like. last year. So obviously I really like him! I also love Gheist a lot~

Sum up one or more of your wips!

Well summaries of my work are very easy to access however I feel like when it comes to Silverwood I usually just do the sort of overall vibe, but I don't know that I've necessarily gotten into the core conflicts of each generation.

1st generation the conflict is between Ithea and her father on one hand and Ithea and her brother on the other hand. Her father is trying to undermine their race for various reasons and she sees it while others don't because she wasn't raised in that culture. She wants to put a stop to him and his bullshit but unfortunately only manages to turn almost everyone against her so things proceed even faster after she dies. The conflict with her brother is personal and if it weren't for his inability to let go of the past, she might have been able to get more done on the actual conflict that she's worried about but sometimes things don't go the way you want them to.

Generation 2 also has two things going on, there's Charlie who gets involved with a resistance group and ends up funding a failed coup d'état, and all the politics going on over there. There is also Cyan, Gavin, and Kaite who are inventing the concept of organized crime. As for the other siblings there is some information about what they're doing but it's not as important to this particular section of history.

Generation 3 is sort of a domestic arc where the siblings end up coming back together and deal with a bunch of emotional baggage, the world is at this point at least relatively peaceful so there's not so much political nonsense going on it really is just focused on the actual relationships of the Silverwood kids as adults and also their children.

In generation 4 everything goes to shit again and one of Ro's grandchildren leads a revolution and takes over the government of 2 separate countries before deciding that one of them is too troublesome and stays with the other one, prompting all kinds of chaos. If there ever is a generation 5 it will probably revolve around the inheritance rights of the throne that Rona abandoned.

What are some things that inspired your stories? Real events? Maybe a dream?

I am often inspired by dreams actually! I tend to have very plot heavy dreams that I remember well so I've used those on multiple occasions. Celestials, Magic Black as Knight, and Northbound are still active stories that are wholly or partially based on dreams.

Otherwise I get a lot of inspiration from the "wow I would've written a relationship like that so much better" LOL

What story are you the proudest of? Why?

The Ghost! It really is exactly the kind of book that I wanted to be producing when I decided to be a writer, I love the characters and the world building and the story, I think it's held up really well considering how long ago I wrote it, and it just honestly means a lot to me. It's really one that I wrote not just because I had the idea but out of sheer love for the idea and the characters and that love has not diminished ^__^

I'm playing this ask game!

#writing #writeblr #ask games #thanks!!

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callmey1 · 3 months ago

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ykw. So bored I’m not even doing this as an ask game.

1: it’s complicated. Kind of? My mom better than my dad

2: my amazing beautiful gf

3: oh god yes. too personal but many things

4: kinda, used to be way more

5: taken :}

6: either peacefully like in my sleep or doing something good to be remembered for. Like saving someone

7: a baked potato. I needed carbs

8: I play volleyball, it’s very fun. On middle rn but usually an outside

9:yes. Too much

10: uhhhh a while ago. Can’t put a date on it, but depends what you count. Last “real” fight was when me and some friends made an underground boxing ring years back for fun. Like yesterday if you count really small stuff

11: yes, my beautiful girlfriend

12: yeah. no big story I just forgot

13: not really, I dislike a lot of ppl but there’s nobody really specific that I hate

14: my gf ;-;

15: 2 dogs, an Aussie shepherd/swiss mountain and a labradoodle

16: bored and missing my gf

17: not yet

18: no I love spiders

19: no. The things I regret made me who I am today.

20: school

21: get good sleep

22: en este economia?

23: unfortunately none, gonna get at least my ears

24: math science and engineering

25: Not really, I guess I had more time to spend w friends that have drifted a bit but idk

26: hugs

27: god I hope not. Not to my knowledge

28: no

29: uhhhhh not in a bad way I hope. let’s go with no

30: my damn itchy volleyball jersey

31: yes :}

32: green! I’ve also become partial to cyan recently ;)

33: not anymore! shoutout my therapist

34: your honor i plead the fifth

35: touchy subject. I cry exclusively when I have a mental breakdown (not good) so my mom prob.

36: yes.

37: the whole point is you gotta do both

38: I like to think so. I’ve worked on myself a lot recently

39: 15

40: yes, for good reason

41-50 are blank lmao

51: Ooh tough, gotta be my grandmas tacos with fresh homemade tortillas.

52: the thought brings me peace so yes

53: texted my gf goodnight

54: there’s always nuance but I don’t think so.

55: generally no. used to be way more

56: oh. maybe 8. bc of siblings and the afformentioned boxing ring mostly

57: I do now :} keeping my private life private is getting hard

58: rain. love the rain

59: yes I love the snow. It’s so fun

60: yes. I like the idea of that connection w someone

61: I’m neutral on it. as pet names go it’s good and I’d like if my gf called me baby but it’s a tad overused

62: the people I surround myself with

63: maybe? I’ve no real attachment to it but I wouldn’t want to change it. Even if I am trans (I’m some form of queer idk I’m too tired to think abt it) my name is gender neutral so I’d just keep it for convenience

64: no. In fact I’m going to tomorrow.

65: politely decline but stay friends, like they did

66: yes. Both my gf and my best friend are women and I can be myself around them

67: my friend at my vb tournament

68: not for tumblr

69: I do now :)

70: there is now :)

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years ago

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do you have any headcanons to what color exactly dicks eyes are? like ik 'blue' and comic colorists apparently only know one shade of blue eyes and it's almost cyan, but i like to think dicks eyes are a much darker blue, while Bruce has those very unnerving, very clear eyes that are almost transparent... what is your personal take?

oh yknow what babe, this is never something i've put much thought into, but yeah i do have An Opinion about this!

i def agree with bruce having unnervingly clear blue eyes, not really transparent but more of a bright, almost ice blue. it freaks ppl out and bruce is secretly very amused by this. actually, i believe this is canon! (the eye colour, not the bruce thinking it's funny, though that seems pretty in-character lmao)

as for dick,,,,,,hm. i've never really imagined him with dark blue eyes, that's my default for tim. in my head, dick has crystal clear, almost exactly cerulean blue. the weird thing about them is that, in the right light, they seem almost metallic.

(am i partially basing this off my cousin who was born with bright green eyes in a family full of brown ones? maybe. but in her defense, her eyes are bizzare as FUCK and still super beautiful, and i want dick's eyes to look like that)

#dick grayson #nightwing #dc

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mellointheory · 3 years ago

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inhaling smoke, i just awoke

Red wakes up because he’s cold.

It’s winter in Hypixel City, and even the amount of toxins the city puts into the air doesn’t keep the weather from getting cold. Red used to live near a factory that, despite its other drawbacks, kept the air around it warm. He moved away from the factory after he lost his job at the pharmacy. Of course, at that point there wasn’t much of a factory to move away from.

He fights the urge to stay in bed, even though his blankets are thin. It’s only when a glance at his alarm clock tells him it’s 10:46 AM that he gains the motivation to get up. His hands are numb and he blows on them periodically as he gets dressed. There are stains on his palms and fingertips; skin spotted in dark purple and blue. He was working on something new before he went to bed: a recipe of his own that should give the user enhanced eyesight. He tried it last night and all it did was give everything he looked at an edge of bright orange or cyan. He still has the residual headache from it behind his eyes.

Red and white hoodie. Headphones. Bag full of enhancements--the kind that people will actually buy. A baseball bat painted with candy-cane stripes, just in case. Then it’s time for him to go to work.

He ended up in the dockyards of the city after the pharmacy incident, partially because no one would come looking for him here and partially because it was full of exactly the type of degenerates he could sell to. This was where the unwanted of the city ended up; hybrids and cyborgs who’d gone to the wrong place for their surgeries, stray creatures trying to scrape through living in alleyways. One of them ducks into a gutter as he passes; a kind of modified creature with fur and wings. It’s probably been commissioned by some rich person in the upper quarter of the city, then tossed out as soon as they got bored with their living artwork.

Red turns up the music in his headphones and shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets, trying to keep them warm. It’s snowing out here; flakes of grey slush raining down. He could almost mistake it for ash if it didn’t melt when it touched his skin.

A neon sign, its glow still noticeable despite the late morning due to the dark clouds hanging in the sky, catches his attention.

Munchy, it reads in cursive yellow text. Below it are the glass doors of what appears to be a small bar. It’s a little early for one to be open, and there’s far more patrons than he would guess from a place like this. They must serve breakfast or something. He’s not dumb enough to sell in someone else’s establishment without talking to the owner first; but this has more potential customers than anywhere else he’s passed and he’s loathe to let the chance go.

Red pushes one of the doors open with his forearm and walks inside, exhaling as warm air swirls around him. He walks up to the counter and sits down, resting his elbows on it and sliding his headphones down around his neck.

“Can I get you anything?” A blonde man in an apron turns towards him, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter to someone sitting a few seats down.

“Um, yes.” Red straightens his back, smacking his palms down on the counter. “Could I talk to the owner?”

The man squints at him through green eyes, vaguely suspiciously, then shrugs. “Sure. He’s through those doors,” a finger points at a pair of double doors at the other end of the bar.

Red spins his bar stool in the direction the blonde man directed and gets up, walking over the strip of linoleum floor between squeaky-clean booths. He pushes the indicated doors open and find what appears to be a small casino. His gaze passes over the poker and pool tables and catches on a figure behind a desk all the way at the other end of the room. He takes a step forward.

“Excuse me,” a voice at his elbow says, and he turns to see a cat.

A catboy.

The man is standing behind a counter to Red’s right, soft fur and pointed ears and huge eyes. He’s patterned like toast, is Red’s first thought. Soft, cream colored fur that shades to tan on his face and almost black on the backs of his ears. His hands that rest on the counter are delicate and covered in short fur as well, except for soft pads on his palms and fingertips. Red wonders if he has claws. His blue eyes are mostly pupil at the moment, dilated in the low lights of the empty casino.

“You need to leave your weapon here.” The cat hybrid says apologetically. He has little fangs that glint against the pink inside of his mouth when he speaks.

Red reaches up and pulls his basketball bat from where it’s strapped to his back, extending his arm full length to hand it to the other man. The cat hybrid leans forward to grab it as close to the handle as possible and Red glimpses his tail curling up behind the counter to help him keep his balance.

Coming here was a very good idea.

The thought stays even when he walks up to the desk at the other end of the casino and sees a demon sitting there.

The demon’s name is Bad and despite his initial disappointment that Red was not in fact a traveling muffin salesman, he gives Red permission to sell his enhancements in that area. Red may have glossed over all of the benefits of the various concoctions he creates, but he receives the go-ahead that he needs.

If anyone bothers you, feel free to let me or Antfrost know! The demon said cheerily as Red was on his way out. The catboy nodded in agreement, eyes staying downcast when he handed Red back his baseball bat.

Red half hopes that someone will mess with him. He waves a goodbye to the blonde man working behind the bar and hooks his headphones up over his ears again as he strides out into the cold of the street.

He sells half of the supply he packed, and only one person tries to rob him. That’s a downright phenomenal day of business, honestly. He starts to head home when he gets hungry in the late afternoon. The sun is low in the sky at this point, and that combined with the heavy cloud cover of winter has it dark enough for the street lights to be on. Its not night, but there’s a grey gloom over everything that’s only faintly dispelled by the blue-white street lamps every once in a while.

Red hums along to the music in his headphones as he walks. It’s finally stopped snowing. There’s about an inch of snow on the ground, trampled to grey slush on the street and sidewalk, and in the gutter stained various colors by whatever toxic muck runs through there. He spies a patch of untouched snow near the base of a building and squats down, pressing his forefinger into it.

The snow stains red, chemicals bleeding off of Red’s skin into the pristine whiteness. A trail of crimson trails after his finger as he drags it through the snow.

He draws a penis.

“Excuse me?” A voice asks hesitantly, and Red looks up. The catboy from earlier today is standing above him, huddled in a dark green coat. Like an angel from above, back in Red’s life already. Antfrost, the demon had said his name was.

“Hi, Antfrost.” Red beams, standing up and shoving his headphones down around his neck so he can hear the man properly.

“Hi, I—didn’t catch your name.” Antfrost glances down at the penis Red drew in the snow.

“I’m Velvet, but most people call me Red.” Red sticks out a hand.

“I can see why.” Antfrost stares at the red stains on his skin, hesitates, then reaches out and clasps Red’s hand. He shakes it once, then pulls his back. His fur is like soft silk and the pads on his palms are warm enough to leave the faint ghost of his touch on Red’s skin.

“Do you sell sedatives?” Antfrost asks abruptly, shoving both his hands into his coat’s pockets. Red notices that his tail is nowhere in sight, which means it’s probably tucked away into his pants to stay warm. The thought is unbearably endearing to him.

“What kind of sedatives do you want?” Red asks, swinging his shoulder bag around in front of him and unzipping it to look through it.

“A mist or something?” Antfrost tries to peer inside the bag, although odds are that he doesn’t know what any of the potions’ colors and appearance actually mean.

“How wide of a range do you need?” Red zips his bag shut again and folds his arms.

“Big.” Antfrost’s pupils tighten to little slits, and he frowns. And now he looks dangerous, a fanged man with narrowed eyes and some goal not yet revealed to Red. It’s fascinating.

“I don’t have anything like that with me,” Red starts, and before Antfrost can open his mouth he continues, “but I can make some for you within an hour. When do you need it?”

“Tonight.” Antfrost says resolutely. “How much will it cost?”

“For you? Free.” Red turns and starts down the street again. Antfrost follows a few feet behind.

“Are you sure?” The cat hybrid asks.

“Of course I am. Your boss did me a favor, so I’ll pay it forward.” Red glances back at him. “I can make that in half an hour, if you don’t mind waiting at my place till it’s done.”

“That’s not a problem.” Ant puts his hood up. His ears make little points in the top of the fabric.

Red’s apartment is only a few minutes away, but it’s long enough for his hands to get numb. His headphones double as earmuffs, so he puts them back on as they walk to keep his ears from getting cold. He’s thankful for when they finally make it up the stairs to the small, three room apartment that he calls home.

Damn, not even the first date and Antfrost has already come home with him.

Red fumbles with his keys and unlocks the door with cold fingers, kicking it open and nodding at Antfrost to go inside. He pries the keys out of the lock and closes the door behind them, exhaling. He doesn’t have heating, but the walls and insulation make it at least a little bit warmer than outside, and as soon as he starts cooking what Antfrost has asked for, it’ll heat up in here.

The front door opens directly to the small tiled kitchen that Red uses almost exclusively for manufacturing. The counters are occupied by synthesis stands and bunsen burners, and the open cupboards are full of jars of multicolored chemicals. Red sets his bag on the ground and rolls up his hoodie sleeves, nudging his chin at Antfrost. “Can you pull the pots out of that and put them in the fridge?”

Antfrost nods, turning around from where he was ogling the liquid-filled glass on Red’s shelves. Red slips past him and reaches up, pulling down four different bottles and putting them on the counter. This is a simple recipe, it shouldn’t take him long. He starts the blue flame of the burner and holds his hands over it, letting his numbed fingers warm up.

“How large of a radius do you need this to cover?” Red swirls a vial of zolazepam hydrochloride, then checks the temperature of the flame and turns it down slightly.

“I don’t know, big?” Antfrost rests his elbows on the counter, staring at the swirls of bubbles in the depths of the liquid. “Like, small stadium sized.”

Red whistles, sloshing tiletamine into one of the vials in the synthesis stand. Some of it splashes on his fingers, adding to the stains on his skin. He doesn’t mind. Antfrost is definitely planning something very, very interesting tonight. Hopefully no one can trace the origins of the sedative back to Red. He adds a few more chemicals to another vial, caps them both, and presses a button to start the process. He puts a few pumps of nitrous oxide into the mixing chamber.

“It’s like a cock-fighting ring,” Antfrost bursts out.

“You mean a strip club?” Red raises an eyebrow.

“Wh--no.” Antfrost blinks. Pauses. Gathers his words again. He’s cute when he’s flustered. “It’s like a pit where they get genetically modded animals to fight and bet on it. They have a bunch of chimeras trapped in there.”

“So you want to get them out, huh?” Red turns a valve and watches as the two vials mix, emerald green and golden liquid swirling together.

Antfrost nods.

“Why tonight?”

“They keep them all locked up except for the fights.” Antfrost explains. His ears flatten back against his head as he speaks. “But they’ll all be out in their cages tonight. So if I can knock the entire place unconscious…”

“You can get them out.” Red finishes. “What are you gonna do with them after? Keep them in your basement?”

“Drive them to the edge of the city and let them out.” Ant’s tail has slipped free from wherever he was hiding it, and Red is so distracted by its back-and-forth swishing that he almost forgets to turn down the flame exactly when the mixture is boiling at 211° Fahrenheit.

Antfrost wants to be a hero.

Red grew up in the bowels of Hypixel City, pinching pennies like his parents taught him to. He only stayed off the streets due to an unusually high tolerance for chemicals that landed him a job at a pharmacy, mixing drugs for addicts trying to get their fix through the guise of medicine. He’s experienced with cynicism, with people busy deciding something wasn’t their problem simply because they didn’t have the strength to care. And here was this hybrid man, planning an optimistic rescue mission just because he knew animals were being hurt and it made him sad.

Kindness. Red wonders when it became something unfamiliar to him.

The liquid he’s mixed evaporates into a faint yellow mist that he splits into three different vials. He caps them and lines them up on the counter. Antfrost reaches for the one still under Red’s hand and, impulsively, he slides it farther away from the hybrid’s grasp.

“I’m coming.” Red declares. Antfrost looks up, pupils dilating and expanding to make his blue eyes suddenly seem three times bigger. Fuck, that’s cute.

“Are you sure?” He asks, screwing up his face.

“Absolutely.” Red nods.

“Can you fight at all?” Antfrost steps back and gives Red a once-over.

“I don’t carry a baseball bat around just because it makes me look sexy.” Red reminds him.

“Okay, sure,” Antfrost says doubtfully.

“When do we leave?”

Antfrost looks around for a clock on the walls, turning in a slow circle and finding none. Red shakes his sleeve back from his wrist and holds his arm out to let the hybrid read the time. It’s 5:43 in the afternoon.

“I have to get back to Bad’s bar and work.” Antfrost yanks his hood back up over his head. “But I’ll come get you around midnight, if you’re still up for it.”

Red leans against the wall to let him pass. “I will be.”

Antfrost casts a glance over his shoulder, eyes glowing faint blue from the inside of his hood. “Are you sure? You really, actually want to help?”

“Don’t have a reason not to.” Red shrugs.

There’s a long silence, then Antfrost finally says a soft thank you and leaves.

#velvetiscake #antfrost #long post #badboyhalo #ppcrew cyberpunk #mello writes

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queercripintersex · 6 months ago

Text

First off: this is super friggin cool.

As a work of documenting and describing pride flag designs this is excellent. It's clearly a massive undertaking and you're clearly committed to representing the data honestly and faithfully. The circular graphs are really pleasing.

But.... you motivate this out of wanting to improve cognitive accessibility. And I'm afraid this is still way too much, cognitively.

You've reduced the data down to 80-something tags and 24 hues. I'm sure that took a ton of work. But... it's still too much, if the goal is cognitive accessibility.

Since your stated goal is cognitive accessibility, I think you need to switch your analysis from being totally inductive to being a bit more deductive. Right now you're trying to be 100% faithful to the data, and I'm not sure that's actually compatible with producing an easy-to-understand framework.

I am not an art/design person like you are. I didn't know what chartreuse was before reading your report. I can tell the difference between chartreuse and pine green. But the difference between emerald and viridian? Not something I think I can do reliably (especially out of context).

Same problem with the blues. There are too many blues. It's really nice that so many things are literally opposite their opposites but I am not an art person and cannot look at a colour and be like "oh yes, this green is the opposite of that purple".

So here's a stab at simplifying your framework. I've moved tags so that each hue has a thematic coherence, and reduced the number of hues from 24 to 17 so it's more visually accessible:

By hue:

Pinkish red: aesthetic [attraction, xenogenders]

Red: physical [attraction, bodily sex, altersex]

Vermillion (orange-red boundary): bold [fast, strong/large, move in increasing, aporagender/maverique, non-conformity, sensual attraction]

Orange/brown: culture [keep culturally-specific genders here, move POC and non-Western here, move vanilla and Christian here]

Gold: intersex [keep otherwise free]

Yellow: platonic & nonbinary. I couldn't come up with a unifying theme for these two together and they're both big tags.

Chartreuse (green-yellow boundary): neither [neutral and flux stay, maybe move exobinary here, move placeholder here]

Warm green: mental [romantic, emotional attraction; self, autonine, envy; neuroqueer]

Cold green: many [polyam, ambiguous, multigender]

Teal (blue-green boundary): three [trinary genders, move tertiary here; stable can go here because tripods are stable]

Cyan: wannabe [move alterous & conformity here, plus slow, weak, decreasing, also universality]

Blue: masculine [keep it otherwise free]

Indigo (blue-purple boundary): alternative [keep kink & disabled here and move in kenochoric, different, social attraction]

Lavender: two [androgynous, both/between, move binary and perisex here]

Plum: sex but not bodily sex [sexual attraction, intergender]

Purplish pink: queer [fluidity and drag go here, love and same stay]

Pink: feminine [and feminist]

And monochromatic:

White: all

Light grey: partial [move questioning here]

Dark grey: one [single, monogamy]

Black: none [move anarchist here]

And here's another way to make it cognitively simpler: give lightness and chroma consistent meanings.

What I'm imagining is a table where each row is a hue, and then you have like a bunch of columns: gender, expression, sex, attraction, politics, etc.

Each column has a specific lightness and chroma.

For example, intersex according to your table has lightness 85% and chroma 0.18. We make that combination mean bodily sex.

So if we take the hue for pink (0), and apply lightness 85% and chroma 0.18, we get female (the bodily sex). Which is a light pink. And same idea with masculine - male (the bodily) sex is a light blue.

In your table, drag is lightness 65% and chroma 0.17. So maybe we use that combo to mean gender expression? I apply that to the feminine hue, I get a dark pink. It could mean feminine gender expression. Ditto masculine blue.

Right now it is A LOT to remember all the different colours for each hue. They don't seem to follow any patterns, which is very faithful to the chaos that is flag design.

But I don't think I can keep track of all the colours in your tables. So imposing a pattern onto how the different hues are shaded I think would help simplify things a lot.

Hope this helps! Again, it's really awesome work for describing how things actually are. But if it's gonna be cognitively accessible I think you're gonna have to impose some patterns on the data to make it simpler for folks to remember.

What Pride Flags Mean, Part 1: Gender and Attraction

Welcome to the latest installment of my autistic hyperfixation on flags! I wanted to figure out a common language of Colour X means Thing Y. Like how pink is consistently used for feminine.

Having a common language for flag meanings matters because it improves cognitive accessibility of flags. ♿️💙

But I didn't want to be prescriptive about what colours should mean what. Just because I think Thing X should go with Colour Y doesn't mean everybody else would.

So this turned into a descriptive, empirical project. I gathered a data set of 2060 pride flag colour choices to figure out what are the most common colour-meaning combinations. Some of the results:

And here are the abstract modifiers: these are modifiers that were generally shared between the genders and the attractions. For example, black is used to indicate having no gender as well as having no attraction.

Click here for tables with okLCH values, hex values, definitions, and notes - I've put a more detailed write-up on my Wikimedia Commons userpage. (Mediawiki supports sortable tables and Tumblr does not.)

METHODS-AT-A-GLANCE

To make the figures above, I assembled a data set of pride flag colours. It contains 2060 colour choices from 624 pride flags, representing 1587 unique colours. Click here for a detailed description of how I gathered and tagged the pride flag colours and tagged them.

For each tag, I converted every colour to okLCH colour space and computed a median colour. OkLCH colour space is an alternative to RGB/hex and HSL/HSV. Unlike RGB/hex and HSL/HSV, okLCH is a perceptual colour space, meaning that it is actually based on human colour perception. 🌈

In okLCH space, a colour has three values:

- Lightness (0-100%): how light the colour is. 100% is pure white.

- Chroma (0-0.37+): how vibrant the colour is. 0 is monochromatic. 0.37 is currently the most vibrant things can get with current computer monitor technologies. But as computer monitor technologies improve to allow for even more vibrant colours, higher chroma values will be unlocked.

- Hue (0-360°): where on the colour wheel the colour goes - 0° is pink and 180° is teal, and colours are actually 180° opposite from their perceptual complements.

The important thing to know is that okLCH Hue is not the same Hue from HSV/HSL - the values are different! (HSL and HSV are a hot mess and do not align with human colour perception!)

You can learn more about okLCH through my little write up, which was heavily influenced by these helpful articles by Geoff Graham, Lea Verou, and Keith J Grant.

You can play with an okLCH colour picker and converter at oklch.com

🌈

MORE RESULTS: COLOUR DISTRIBUTIONS

Back when I started tagging my data, I divided my data into five main chunks: Gender qualities (e.g. masculine, androgynous), Attraction (e.g. platonic, sexual), Values (e.g. community, joy), Disability (e.g. Deaf, blind), and Other.

I'll talk about Disability and Values in future posts! But for an alternate view of the data, here are the full distributions of the colours that were placed in each tag.

They come in three parts: tags I created for Gender, tags for Attraction, and tags from Other. The abstract modifiers are spread between the first two, though their contents transcend Gender and Attraction.

Some distributions have a lot more variance within them than others. Generally speaking, major attraction types tended to have the least variance: sensual attraction is really consistently orange, platonic is really consistently yellow, etc.

Variance and size do not correlate. Many of the smaller tags are quite internally consistent. I don't have a ton of tags in "current gender" but they're all the same dark purple. Xenine/xenogender has a whole bunch of entries, and there's a really big spread from blue to yellow.

Some tags, like intersex as well as kink/fetish show there are a small number of different colours that are very consistently used. Whereas other tags like masculine show a very smooth range - in this case from cyan to purple.

Overall I'm pretty satisfied with how things wound up! 🥳 It makes sense to me that an umbrella term like xenogender would have a lot of variance. What honestly makes me happiest is just how many tags wound up 180 or 90 degrees from their opposites/complements. 🤩

Not everything lined up nicely (the opposite of drag is .... neuroqueer? awkward.) 🤨 Some things lined up in hilarious ways, like how initially I had the opposite of kink/fetish being Christian (amazing.)

But as a whole, there's a lot of structure and logic to where things landed! I hope this makes sense for other people and can help inform both flag making as well as flag interpreting (e.g. writing alt-text for existing flags). 🌈

I'm hoping to post the Disability and Values analyses in the coming days! If you want to learn more, my detailed notes along with tables etc are over on my Wikimedia Commons userspace. 💜

Everything here is Creative Commons Sharealike 4.0, which means you're free to reuse and build on my visualizations, tables, etc. Enjoy!

#I'm not sure how to make it colourblind friendly but that should also be considered with the lightness/chroma #text post #flags #design #accessibility #cognitive accessibility #analysis

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fortune-fool02 · 4 years ago

Text

Beasts of Power

Diego Brando x dragon reader

Requested by: anonymous

Diego befriending a dragon reader who loves flying and helping him with his new dinosaur instincts and powers.

Dragon AU

Diego! Woo! I love writing for him! Please enjoy.

There was often many things that were shaped and distorted by words, stories and legends being twisted and moulded into something else than what was originally in place and told. Diego remembered, when he was but a young child, his mother telling him stories of monstrous creatures. Dragons.

Beasts of large size that radiated power in many ways. Proud, unmatched creatures that very few could even come close to. Winged shadows against the night sky, gliding through the air as they dominated the sky as they did land. How they could destroy countless ships in one fell swoop along with their infamous flaming breath. That power alone, to control the fire and command it as your own weapon, a living inferno, was enough to show their power and strength. Their greatness.

Diego had longed to see one in person, often resulting in the young child to stand out late at night, hoping to catch a glimpse of the shadows among the stars. To see a large wing cover the moon for a moment.

Sadly, he never had such luck. And this dream of seeing one soon faded into nothing but the delusions of a lonely childhood as Diego grew and matured. His mind turning and focusing more onto succeeding rather than dreaming.

Shaking his head, Diego tried to focus on the strange new scent that he had picked up, turning his head in many directions to try and locate it. Ever since he had obtained his Stand ability, Scary Monster, he had inhuman senses but at this moment in time, something was making it difficult for him to focus. A scent that he has never encountered before. His nerves set alight, unsure if whatever the source is was a threat or not but there was something about it that made his new instincts wary.

Guiding Silver Bullet towards the direction of the scent, Diego’s senses were on edge, prepared for whatever threat may be concealing itself, stalking him like a predator would prey. Diego Brando was not prey. As he grew closer to the scent, his cyan blue eyes spotting something among the vegetation. A glimmer of something large, curious, he followed it into the cave it vanished into. His senses pushed him to follow, wanting to know what this thing was.

No sooner had he dismounted his horse and entered, a wave of power crashed against him. Raw, old power, something that has been living for many, many years, far older than him. Every fibre of his new, dinosaur ability and instincts almost cowered, like an omega would to an alpha. Looking up, he saw the source of this power.

Large in size, covered in glimmering [Colour] scales with an array of spikes peeking from them, especially around the head where large horns stood proud from its head, like the hood on a king cobra or feathers on a bird. Glowing [Eye colour] orbs that radiated the same power as its form did, the large tail swaying slightly as it turned to look at the intruder. Two large, stunning wings tucked to its sides.

A low, deep rumble was heard from the creature, “Well, isn’t this something new? A human entering my den so willingly.” Even its voice rumbled in a way he has never heard before. Diego was still processing the disbelief at what he was seeing. Just like the stories but far, far more captivating.

A dragon.

“Well? Speak up. Less you are that desperate to die.” The beast moved its head closer to him, its jaws easily able to snatch Diego up in one swoop and end him then and there. But it didn’t.

“I have no desire to die. Not even by a dragon’s jaws.” The blonde answered, collecting himself and refusing to back down. Something foolish but he couldn’t do so. The [Colour] dragon lowly growled, inhaling his scent and gave a curious look.

“Scent of man and lizard. Something I have never encountered before. What are you?” His scent was both human and lizard, but strangely so. Stronger than any normal human.

“A Stand user.” He answered, allowing the cracks to form along his face, showing his reptilian form partially. The dragon only hummed again. “This is my power. Scary Monster.”

“Interesting. And here I thought humans weaklings. Name yourself, reptile.” Diego’s features reverted back to human, his cyan eyes never once leaving the dragon’s glowing [Eye colour] orbs.

“Diego Brando.” It hummed again.

“I am [Name].” It spoke, lowering its head in a form of bow which Diego return respectfully. The stories of them fell short on the true power and greatness this beast radiated. Diego felt honoured just to look at one, let alone speak to one.

[Name] showed to be an intelligent creature, nothing close to a simple, dull animal. Impressive. Stunning. Their love for flying was something as passionate as Diego’s love for horse-racing. It was something natural for dragons, and a way to feel truly free. And so, when [Name] offered Diego this, how could he refuse? Lowering their head down, [Name] allowed Diego to climb onto their back, the base of their neck where the spikes where not as large.

Keeping a firm grip, Diego held on as [Name] crawled out the cave and stretched out their wings and took off; the sudden action making him grip tighter, almost fearing he would slip off and fall to his death. The wind blew and shouted past him, whipping his blonde locks about as the pair went higher into the sky.

Once they were high enough, Diego looked, amazed at the sight of the passing fields below them. With the heavy clouds, [Name]’s form remained hidden. It was incredible. Diego had never experienced something like this before. [Name]’s jaws opened and released a bone-chilling roar that could put thunder to shame, the rumbling roar also pulled something within Diego. His features shifting somewhat as he released his own roar.

“Not bad, Diego.”

This was easily the start of something very interesting.

#diego brando #jojo bizarre adventure #diego brando x reader #jojo bizzare adventure x reader #jojo #jojo x reader #diego brando jojo #jojo part 7 #steel ball run x reader #steel ball run #diego steel ball run #sbr #dragon reader #dragon au

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c-swirlz · 4 years ago

Text

Pure Imagination

Summary: Thomas has never really questioned the existence of humanoid fragments of his personality, but when strange dreams start worming their way into his sleeping hours, he decides it’s time to get some answers. Meanwhile, Logic, Creativity and Morality are dealing with a few of their own problems.

Relationship(s): None

Warning(s): Panic attack, swearing

[AO3 link]

This was written for the TSS Fanworks Collective’s April Reverse Mini Bang challenge. The rules of the challenge were simple: claim a piece of submitted art and write fic inspired by it. The art I chose was drawn by @amayakumiko, and it can be found here.

Everyone has an imagination. From the elderly to the newborns, everyone is capable of warping reality within their own head. Some imaginations are tame. Others are wild. Some people imagine life in another country and the adventures they could have. Others imagine life in a fantasy world where society’s rules don’t apply. Everyone’s imagination is different. That’s what makes it such a special thing.

There are a handful of people who are more imaginative than the rest of humanity. They’re a rare breed, and it is said only three are born across a ten-year period. Of course, such powerful imaginations can’t go to waste, so it has been decided that a gift shall be bestowed upon every individual who possesses it. The first to receive this gift shall be a boy named Thomas Sanders.

*****

In an ordinary house on an ordinary street, a shadow looms over the small crib five month old Thomas is sleeping in. A leather pouch is opened, revealing many different colours of shimmering glitter. The dark blue and indigo glitter is retrieved, and with unnatural precision, it is sprinkled onto Thomas.

The glitter glows brightly. Thomas is surrounded by an aura that glows both dark blue and indigo. The glitter dissolves, and the aura fades along with it.

Red glitter is retrieved from the pouch. It’s sprinkled onto Thomas, causing him to stir but not wake. The aura that momentarily surrounds him glows a bright imperial red.

More glitter is retrieved. This time, it’s light blue and cyan. Once again, Thomas’ aura adopts the colours as he’s showered by the magical substance. The aura glows dark blue, indigo, imperial red, light blue and cyan all at once before it fades again.

Thomas stirs again. His bottom lip trembles and he whimpers. Unlike before, he doesn’t relax. Several other colours of glitter are sprinkled onto him, and his face twitches as it falls onto the delicate skin of his cheeks and forehead. His restlessness grows as his aura appears once again. It glows a variety of different colours.

Thomas’ lips part and a quiet, distressed noise escapes. His tiny eyes blink open, and they well up with unshed tears.

His aura fades. He sobs loudly. His parents wake up and scurry out of their shared bed frantically to check on him, and on the ground near his crib, they find an empty leather pouch.

They’ve never seen it before.

*****

Logic /ˈlɒdʒɪk/ NOUN Reasoning conducted or assessed according to strict principles of validity.

Logan has no idea how he — or his fellow Sides, for that matter — came to be. He knows they haven’t always had physical forms. He knows they haven’t always been able to speak to Thomas face-to-face. He knows there’s no logical explanation, yet he’s always searching for one.

Fragments of an individual’s personality shouldn’t have an independent conscience. They shouldn’t have physical forms. They shouldn’t be able to do things no other human can.

Logan knows everything Thomas does. Or, more accurately, he knows everything Thomas has learned over the years, and he retains that knowledge even after Thomas has forgotten it. Science is something Thomas seems to remember the most about, but math… oh, math. The amount of mathematical formulas Thomas has forgotten frustrates Logan to no end.

Thomas and Logan share a mind. They share their knowledge, and that knowledge helps them grow. Thomas asks questions, and most of the time, Logan is the one who answers them. He’s an intellectual, but he doesn’t know everything.

He wishes he did.

*****

“Logic?”

Thomas’ tentative call tugs gently in Logan’s chest. When Logan rises up, he finds his Whole sitting at the desk in the corner of the room, his head in his hands.

“What can I do for you, Thomas?”

Thomas lowers his hands and sighs. He gestures to the sheet of paper on the desk and picks up the pencil sitting beside it. “Homework.”

Logan’s head tilts. “You… require assistance?”

Thomas nods.

“Have you not asked your teachers for help?”

Thomas averts his gaze, bites his lip and shakes his head. “I would, but I don’t want it to seem like I wasn’t paying attention to the lectures. Plus, I... feel like I ask them for help a little too often.”

Logan’s expression softens. He approaches Thomas, careful not to get too close. They still don’t know what will happen if they make physical contact with their Whole, and Logan doesn’t plan on being the one to find out.

“What are you having trouble with?”

Thomas moves to point out what question he’s stuck on, but stops. There’s silence for a beat, then a quiet clatter breaks it when Thomas puts the pencil down.

“Y’know what, nevermind. I have plenty of time to finish this, it’s fine.”

Logan’s brow furrows. Thomas stands and moves to his bed. Logan follows, but chooses to stand nearby as Thomas drapes himself across the blanket, effectively wrinkling it.

“Is something the matter, Thomas?”

Thomas sits up and his gaze snaps up to meet Logan’s eyes. “No,” he says, far too quickly.

“Are you sure?” Logan asks. He takes a seat beside Thomas, and he pushes down the odd urge to place a hand on his Whole’s shoulder. “You seem distressed. If something is bothering you, talking about it may help.”

Thomas sighs and lowers his head. His bangs flop down, partially hiding his face.

“I’ve been having… dreams. Weird ones.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “It’s not uncommon for someone to have strange dreams every now and again—“

“That’s the thing,” Thomas interrupts. He lifts his head and turns it to lock eyes with Logan. “Logic, I’ve been having these dreams for days now, and they won’t stop.”

Logan blinks. “Ah. That is… rather concerning. Can you remember any of your dreams?”

Thomas’ brow furrows in thought. “Well, I remember I almost drowned in glitter Monday night.” He laughs. “That was weird.”

Logan summons a notepad and jots something down. Thomas waits patiently for him to stop scribbling before he speaks again.

“Wednesday night was pretty freaky. I was in some really dark room, and I could hear whispering. I remember seeing weird flashes of colour, but I wasn’t able to get a proper look before they disappeared.”

Logan nods and jots another note down. “You didn’t experience any odd dreams on Tuesday?”

Thomas shakes his head, then pauses. “Wait, shouldn’t you know all this? You’re part of me.”

Logan tucks the pen in his grasp behind his ear. “Dreams are generally Creativity’s department. Unlike him, the rest of us are not automatically made aware of them.”

“Huh.”

The room falls into an awkward silence, save for the tapping of Thomas’ forefinger on the desk. Logan fixes his tie and cleans the lenses of his glasses, just to give him something to do.

“Why am I having these dreams, Logic?”

Logan blinks. “What?”

Thomas looks down at his bare feet, which are hovering just above the carpet. “I wanna know why I’m having these dreams. There has to be a reason, and I guess I just assumed you’d know.”

There’s a lump in Logan’s throat. He swallows, but it doesn’t dislodge.

“I…”

Thomas glances up at Logan. Logan puts on a brave face and looks his Whole in the eye.

“As I said before, dreams are not my department. It would be best to consult Creativity if your concern grows.”

The way Thomas’ expectant face falls makes Logan’s heart sink. He wishes he had an answer, he really does, but nothing is coming to mind. He doesn’t know what’s going on, nor why Thomas is having such strange dreams.

Knowledge is his entire existence. He has to know.

He sinks out. For the rest of the evening, he stays in his room, conducting research and jotting down notes.

He doesn’t eat. He doesn’t sleep.

He has to know.

*****

Creativity /ˌkriːeɪˈtɪvɪti/ NOUN The use of imagination or original ideas to create something; inventiveness.

Roman is a dreamer. He’s a performer; an artist. He’s the one who’s always ready to slay any monsters lurking in the shadows. He’s the hero of the story, and any villains who dare to cross his path will be shown no mercy.

Thomas is an actor. Saying he’s a good one would be an understatement. Both he and Roman are well rehearsed in putting on a mask and performing for an audience, and they’ve gotten rather good at it over the years.

Thomas loves theatre. So does Roman.

Thomas loves Disney. So does Roman.

Thomas has dreams. So does Roman. Not the sort of dreams you have when you’re asleep, but rather aspirations, ambitions and ideals.

Roman shouldn’t have them. Dreams, he means. He’s a facet of a person’s personality. He isn’t an individual. Thomas’ dreams are the ones that matter; his are irrelevant.

It’s one of the many problems Roman has with his existence.

He doesn’t like talking about it.

*****

“Prince?”

Roman greets Thomas with an exaggerated regal bow as he rises up. “Good afternoon, Thomas! What can I do for you on this fine day?”

Thomas puts his phone aside and starts fiddling with his fingers. After a moment, he places his hands on either side of him, and his fingers curl around the soft material of the blanket underneath him.

“I talked to Logic yesterday.” Thomas pauses, but only for a beat. “I told him about the weird dreams I’ve been having.”

Roman sighs. “Yes, I heard about that. Your dreams these past few nights have been quite strange, and oddly enough, they all seem to be connected. Logic’s been trying to figure out what they mean, but I don’t think he’s had much luck so far.”

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Roman shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. Picking out the symbolism of the dreams I oversee isn’t exactly my strong suit.”

Thomas looks away. “Oh.”

Roman smiles warmly. “Don’t fret, Thomas. We’ll figure this out together, okay? These questions won’t go unanswered.”

Thomas glances at Roman, and the corner of his lips curl upward.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Roman grins and starts to sink out.

“Hey, wait.”

Half-submerged in the floor, Roman stops. He rises back up and raises an eyebrow.

Thomas stands and starts fiddling with his fingers again. “I, uh… sorry about Thursday. I know you wanted me to go for the lead in the play.”

Roman waves a dismissive hand, ignoring the sudden tightness in his chest. “Don’t sweat it, Tommy Salami. It’s just a school play, no big deal. They’re practically the same as the ones you participated in back in high school, anyway.”

Thomas giggles. “Tommy Salami? That’s a new one.”

“I have plenty more; I’ve been brainstorming all week.”

Roman and Thomas laugh, and just for a moment, Roman’s tight chest loosens. As their laughter dies down, Roman feels the tightness return.

He ignores it.

*****

Morality [məˈralɪti] NOUN Principles concerning the distinction between right and wrong or good and bad behaviour.

Patton’s job is simple. He determines what’s right and wrong. He makes sure Thomas is honest and encourages him to put others before himself. When Thomas was younger, Patton would repeat the same mantra over and over again.

“Don’t kill, don’t steal. Be honest. Help others and put them first. Be a good person, kiddo.”

When Thomas was younger, his sense of morality was fairly streamlined. Now, slowly but surely, things are becoming more complicated.

Patton hates that. He shouldn’t, but he does.

The moral dilemmas Thomas faces on a daily basis are growing more complex. Though Patton will never admit it, he’s struggling to keep up. It’s getting more and more difficult to determine what the ‘right thing’ to do is, and the pressure is always on Patton to make the call. He’s supposed to know, but sometimes…

Sometimes he doesn’t.

*****

“I’ve figured it out!”

Logan rises up in Patton’s room, grinning from ear to ear. His glasses are slightly askew and he has a large pile of notebooks and stray pieces of paper stacked precariously in his arms. Patton scrambles over to help Logan by taking some of his load, but then has to quickly dump them onto his bed as his arms begin to shake under the weight he was unprepared to carry.

Patton turns around to face Logan and laughs. “Wow, Logan, I haven’t seen you this happy in… well, ever! But, uh… what did you figure out, exactly?”

Logan rolls his eyes and places his load on the ground at his feet. He fixes his glasses, straightens his tie and runs a hand through his hair a few times before clearing his throat. Patton’s heart sinks at the way Logan’s expression quickly settles back into one of cold indifference.

“I think I’ve finally managed to figure out why we exist in this particular form,” Logan gestures to himself, “and why Thomas is able to summon us to his side at will.”

“This is about all those weird dreams Thomas keeps having, right? Roman mentioned it the other day.”

Logan nods. “It is.” He pauses. “Well, partially. I believe the dreams are a result of an event that occurred during an earlier stage of Thomas’ life. I'm thinking it’s either a result of some kind of genetic mutation, or a genetic alteration.”

Patton blinks.

“...What about the glitter?”

Logan stills.

“What.”

Patton’s brow furrows. “Wasn’t there glitter in one of Thomas’ dreams? I could’ve sworn Roman mentioned it…”

Logan blinks. Slowly, a realisation dawns on him.

“Oh, of course, the glitter.” Logan gently hits the side of his head with his palm. “I completely forgot that was a factor.” He sighs and pushes his glasses up his nose. “Now I’ll have to revise everything,” he mutters.

Patton frowns. “Maybe you should take a break, Logan. You’ve been working on this,” he gestures to the stacks of notebooks, “for a really long time.”

“I’ve taken plenty of breaks, Patton.”

Patton crosses his arms. “I mean a proper one.”

Logan huffs. “Patton, I’m not a child. You do not have to… monitor me.”

Patton’s eyes go wide. “Monitor—“ He stops, squeezes his eyes shut and massages his temples. He releases a slow, steady breath before he opens his eyes and lowers his arms. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

Logan scoffs and looks away.

“Logan, what’s gotten into you?”

Logan chooses to ignore the question as he retrieves his notebooks.

“I really should’ve expected this.”

“Wha — What—“ Patton splutters. “Expected what?”

“You are the heart. I am the mind. It’s common for us to be at odds, especially when you’d always rather Thomas spend time with friends rather than study.”

When Logan looks at Patton, there’s fire in his eyes. He’s glaring daggers, and Patton has to force himself not to flinch away.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Patton’s voice is loud, and he’s very close to yelling. He hopes he won’t have to resort to such an extreme.

Logan shakes his head. “Nothing.”

He sinks out, and Patton is left alone in Nostalgia Nirvana as guilt settles in his chest like a pebble.

*****

Anxiety /aŋˈzʌɪəti/ NOUN A feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease about something with an uncertain outcome.

A nervous disorder marked by excessive uneasiness and apprehension, typically with compulsive behaviour or panic attacks.

Thomas is floating. Around him is a pitch-black void. Above him, a hand comes into view, sparkling glitter pinched between its fingers.

The glitter falls. It’s a variety of different colours, and it almost looks like a rainbow.

Thomas reaches for the glitter, wanting to feel it between his fingertips. The moment the glitter makes contact with his hand, it turns a deep purple — or is it violet? Thomas barely has any time to process the change before he finds himself falling. As he falls, he swears he can hear a voice, but it’s extremely muffled, as if he’s hearing it from underwater. Slowly, however, the voice grows louder, and Thomas can almost hear what it’s saying—

“Thomas!”

Thomas’ anxiety spikes. His eyes fly open and he sits up, barely aware enough to recognise where he is. He’s faintly aware of his chest heaving and the uneven breaths he’s taking, but that’s about it.

Someone nearby mutters a swear, and the next thing Thomas knows, he’s being guided off the bed — his bed, he was in his bed — and onto the carpeted floor. He really should be more concerned about the stranger in his bedroom, but oddly enough, he feels like he can trust them.

“Breathe, Thomas. Four-seven-eight, remember?”

Yes, Thomas remembers. Unfortunately, his chest feels like it’s crushing itself with every breath he takes.

The stranger gathers Thomas’ hands into their own and places them against their chest. Thomas can feel their heart pounding.

“You feel that?”

Thomas nods.

“Cool. Now, I want you to focus on that and copy my breathing, okay?”

Thomas nods again. Despite his aching chest, he allows the stranger to guide him through the exercise. As he breathes, he can hear the stranger murmuring words of encouragement.

“Keep it up, Thomas. That’s good, keep going.”

Eventually, after what seems like hours but is really only a few minutes, Thomas is able to breathe normally, and his chest no longer aches with every breath. The haze of panic is fading, and Thomas is finally able to get a good look at the stranger who helped him. They’re wearing an unzipped black plaid jacket with the hood up, and Thomas can see they’re wearing a black shirt underneath. The hood plus their bangs makes it very difficult to see their face, though Thomas is pretty sure he can see eyeshadow smudged underneath their eyes.

The only word that comes to mind to describe them is ‘edgy’.

The stranger mutters something under their breath before reaching up and pulling the hood off their head. They run a hand through their hair, and Thomas can’t help but notice it looks almost identical to his own.

Just like that, everything clicks.

“You’re a Side.”

The Side smiles wryly in Thomas’ direction. “Sure am.”

“I have more than three?!”

“Clearly.” The Side’s voice is monotone, and Thomas can’t help but think he’s being mocked. “Oh, and I’m Anxiety, by the way, thanks for asking.”

Thomas very quickly decides he does not like this new Side.

Anxiety sits back on his heels. “That was one heck of a dream you were having, huh? Though I guess that’s nothing compared to all the others you’ve been having.”

“You know about those?”

“Well, duh.” Anxiety stands and stretches. Thomas does the same. “I kinda have to be able to monitor your dreams so I can wake you up if shit gets real.”

“Do you know anything about them?”

Anxiety raises an eyebrow. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, kid.”

Thomas’ internal groan is very loud, and he’s glad only he can hear it. “Well, we’ve been trying to figure out what they mean for weeks now, but—“

“Magic.”

Thomas blinks. “What?”

Anxiety perches himself on the end of Thomas’ bed. “These dreams are a result of you being exposed to magic as a baby.”

Thomas’ brow furrows. “Are you messing with me?”

“Nope,” Anxiety responds, popping the ‘p’. “I know it sounds absurd, like something Princey would come up with, but I’m serious. How else do you think we exist?”

“You expect me to believe the reason I have Sides is because of magic?”

“Yep.”

“Yeah, no. Hate to break it to you, bud, but magic doesn’t exist.”

Anxiety pulls his jacket tighter around himself. “That’s Logic talking. If magic didn’t exist, then nor would we.”

“You’re making absolutely no sense.”

“I’d like to think I’m making perfect sense.”

Thomas’ teeth grind. “I’d like you to know that you’re really starting to get on my nerves.”

Anxiety smirks. Thomas glares. For a moment, the two of them are locked in a staring contest.

Thomas loses.

Anxiety cackles. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna take my leave before my presence attracts… unwanted attention. Well, unwanted for me, not so much for you.”

Anxiety stands up and prepares to sink out, but pauses. He snaps his fingers as if he’s just remembered something, then turns to face Thomas.

“Hey, by the way, you might wanna check in with those three. I hear they’re not doing so hot.”

Anxiety sinks out, but not before shooting Thomas a lazy two-fingered salute. Once he’s gone, Thomas’ face falls and he flops back onto his bed, not bothering to fix the blankets. He grabs his pillow and shoves his face into it, allowing it to muffle the extremely loud groan he can finally release.

“Why is my personality so complicated?”

#april reverse mini bang #tss fanworks collective #sanders sides #sanders sides oneshot #character!thomas #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #panic attack #swearing #swirlz scrawls

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in-the-mud · 3 years ago

Text

Behial: Appearance

The Behial are the godclan directly created by Maari at the dawn of time. Unlike the other three, the Behial were not given an animal as a signifier of lineage. Instead, Maari tasked them with finding their own animals to emulate. In contrast to Zuul, who did not favor any particular animal, Maari adores all animals and shares joint custody of them with Ahkha, having had a significant hand in the creation of several creatures that roam the world. As such, the baseline appearances of the Behial vary greatly, and it was only exacerbated by the subsequent interference of the moon god.

Generally agreed upon traits of the Behial include blue eyes of every shade, cyan, and white. To clarify, “white” does not mean blank, but the actual iris itself is some shade varying from snow white to light grey, complete with pupil. Green and brown eyes present as well, and folktales will occasionally give characters vivid pink or purple eyes. Given the fact that a lot of their history is oral, it’s hard to say if that ever was a reality, but likely not.

Hair colors and textures vary, though red is extremely uncommon to the point that it’s seen as a potential sign of Mazieh or even Imerin blood. It’s very common for natural hair color to change wildly over the passage of years, but in addition to that the Behial have access to a dizzying variety of dyes and cosmetics. The easiest way to pick out a Behial at a distance is the presence of unnatural hair colors and face/chest paint.

Up close, Maari gave her people only the subtlest common enhancements: slightly more webbing between the fingers, increased flexibility, and mildly improved night vision.

Behial beauty standards and fashion are mildly terrifying to some outsiders because there seems to be no standard beyond bright colors, and lots of them. Clothes are more aesthetic than anything, and occasionally one may run across individuals dressed in nothing but body paint and jewelry. As dictated by Maari, each member chooses their own animal- typically between the ages of seven and fifteen, with possibly a few changes to the decision during that time period. While choosing multiple animals or changing the choice does happen even into adulthood, the gossip wheel does tend to get opinionated about it.

Choosing one’s animal is a very important aspect of entering society, but overall comes down to one’s own values and life experience. Certain animals have symbolic associations to consider, like the hashgia (the apex predator of Mihle’len, and sacred) or the suulmek (butterflies used as a tool of biological warfare against the Imerin), while others may simply express some trait the person finds admirable and wants to emulate, like the fun-loving river dolphins or determined anteaters. Moths are typically chosen as an expression of dedication to the moon god. There are no hard rules for how to make the choice, but socially there are stereotypes.

The expression of this choice is made through color palettes, materials, and body paint styles, but is largely left up to the creativity of the individual. The fabric used is generally lightweight, with material sourced from domesticated spiders as well as a variety of other animals.

The only truly hard-set forms of personal decoration are the silver torcs used by the nueri[1]. While there are necklaces used to signify pronouns with a combination of crystals and other materials to represent phonemes, and any member of the Behial may use them, not everyone does.

[1] Nueri are the nonbinary people of the Behial. Gender in-universe is a complex topic, but the Behial are the only society to normalize the idea of more than two genders. This will be expanded on in another post.

Author’s note: Yes, I am specifically trying to base a fantasy society partially on furries. As an anthropologist I might need to find a convention to attend for science reasons.

#itm behial #wip sparknotes

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rockshortage · 3 years ago

Note

For Hector: ☘🍁🍀☀️

For Neva: 🌸💐☘🍁🌾🍀🍂🌳🌙

ayy

Hector

☘- Does this oc have any piercings? Do they want any?

Nah, he has none and doesn’t have any intention of getting any. He feels like they’d just get in the way.

🍁- What's this oc's favorite genre of movies/tv shows/books/etc?

He likes most things, as long as they satisfy his sometimes arbitrary measure of realism. He’ll usually go for some sort of educational / non-fiction content like nature documentaries or some person’s autobiography.

🍀- Around when does this oc get up in the morning?

Hector is usually up a few times at night, even with as healthy of a sleep schedule as he can reach. It’s hard to say, the aim is probably around 7 am? And the longest he can get away with is probably 9am if he was up a lot during the night. But it can also happen that he abandons the notion of going back to bed at 4am, so… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

☀️- Does this oc make good or bad first impressions?

Overall I’d say it’s more toward the negative, since his social skills aren’t very good, he’s a raider and usually supposed to take some kind of center stage. In situations where he doesn’t have to assert his Overboss-ness he can usually get away with not making an impression at all though, because he’s the type of guy to very easily fade into the background and not be noticed.

Neva

🌸- What's this oc's favorite and least favorite color?

Neva has a preference for natural and earthy tones - she particularly likes a dark forest green, it's calming and easy on the eyes. And while in the right context any color can look nice, she's less of a fan of ones that feel synthetic and overly bright, like the color of a yellow highlighter or a really bright cyan

💐- Where is this oc's favorite place to relax?

Near the sea, like out on a dock or on some rocks by the shore. She likes to listen to the waves.

☘- Does this oc have any piercings? Do they want any?

She doesn’t have any but she’d be interested in one. Only problem is she’s a little worried it’ll make her ear fall off if she gets a lobe or cartilage piercing.

🍁- What's this oc's favorite genre of movies/tv shows/books/etc?

She loves anything to do with seafaring stories. Fishermen telling tall tales of facing off against dangerous sea creatures or tragic stories about a husband lost at sea – doesn’t matter, she’ll be hooked (ha) no matter what it is. She's also partial to the good old ‘hero saves the day and gets the girl’ type of story.

🌾- How does this oc get along with people they just met?

Quite well overall! She’s courteous and eager to help as long as people treat her with respect. If they don’t, or if they’re the type of person Neva automatically doesn’t like anyway, she’ll take no shit from them and make her opinion heard. It can be a little off-putting to some.

🍀- Around when does this oc get up in the morning?

She’s an early riser, generally out and about at 5-6 am.

🍂- What music does this oc like?

Pretty much what plays on Diamond City radio. And sea shanties of course :)

🌳- Does this oc collect anything?

She'll occasionally keep a little trophy (like a tooth) from her kills, as well as various bits and pieces she finds at the beach. One day she’ll find a really cool sea monster part, just you wait

🌙- Does this oc have any unusual hobbies?

She doesn’t really have much in terms of hobbies to be honest… on the island she spends most of her time hunting and then getting a use out of every part of her kills – preparing and preserving food, leatherworking, making tools out of bones, etc. I don't think this changes all that much after moving to the commonwealth.

#ask meme #hector messerli #neva

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oz-corp-uplink-t · 4 years ago

Text

Good evening. I figured it would be a good idea to describe our area in detail, both the one we're in now and the one from whence we came. This will be in chronological order, from first discovered to most recently discovered. I hope you all don't mind the formality. This is simply how I normally converse, and I do not see any reason to be any more or less formal than normal.

--Homeworld: GemsGoldia--

Our Homeworld was a unique one, compared to the more Earthly planets of most other universes. It was an entire planet made of crystals and gems, and the general climate of an area depended on the gemstone that comprised the most of an area. Green Emerald areas were usually perfectly warm, red Ruby areas were much hotter and had a tendency to contain magma geysers, blue Sapphire areas were more or less frozen wastes, and a few other, more unnatural climates, such as constant lighting storms over yellow variants of gemstones, and complete and utter darkness in Obsidian areas.

When I first appeared here, I was the only one. I saw the Creator soon after, and he told me what I should do. The Creator's form in our worlds is quite odd, actually. He's two hands and a head, and he tends to change size often, though he's always bigger than me. His hands have white gloves, and I'm certain I've seen they are connected to his head by fishing line or puppet strings. His head is just a black sphere with extremely triangular teeth and large, red eyes. It's more intimidating than it sounds.

Anyway, the factory/research lab we started with was already built when I showed up, along with quite a few houses, all made of the Emerald the ground was made of, and there were exactly enough for those that would appear soon after. There was an unfathomably gigantic generator in a basement within the factory, which I was told created an artificial atmosphere around the entire planet. Evidently, this was true, as it was destroyed in the destruction of the planet, and we have recorded several corpses of beings that need an atmosphere to survive.

--A strange new land: Mirrold--

I had escaped the destruction of GemsGoldia, and I had to find my way back alone. I went through several places, most of which seemed familiar and sparked... Memories, of past versions of myself. My first iteration looked similar to the creator, but I had a pale skin tone, my eyes were humanoid, my hair was green, and I had some nasty claws. I was a throwaway, used to add plot to a normal 'roleplay' (Which, as he told me, simply describes writing a story with more than one person, which I find to be an interesting concept) between good friends. I was to stop a wedding by killing the bride or groom, the bride being an original creation, from his friend, and the groom being another one of those... Skeleton characters. I think they called them Blueberry. I mortally wounded them, and was destroyed in revenge.

My next iteration was similar to the 000 model. I can't remember what I did as them, but I do remember that the Creator and his friend made fictional children for fictional versions of themselves. Apparently, this was my longest running form.

Then, we're at what I am now. A product of His creativity, depression from a long-passed break-up, of which he has told me was his own doing, and fantasies of escaping His world, and coming to ours. His mental state has left our world in ruin, and it seems like he may want this one to have a similar fate...

...Oh, right. I need to be talking about Mirrold. Forgive me, I tend to get far off-topic if I think about our home...

Mirrold is a mirror world, which I found in an apparently magical mirror in the ruins of GemsGoldia, which acted as a portal to here. This place consists of four islands and a deep pit under them, which we call Lower Mirrold.

--The glass shatters: Shatternia--

Shatternia is the only entrance to Mirrold that we know of. After you enter the mirror, you come out onto a catwalk suspended above Lower Mirrold, which looks like pitch blackness. This catwalk ends at a concrete building, where the Brokem, Ozwald, and Cordial base models reside. This is at the southernmost area of the island. To the west of this, there is a thick forest with various weak monsters within. The foliage on this island is always colored in a mix of reds and blues instead of the normal green you'd expect. To the north of the building, there is a toxic lake, and a bridge leading to a canyon with a large gate at the end, leading to the only town in the area, Shardini. If you go east from the building, there is a tram station, which connects to the next island over, and allows for transport between them. North of this is a mansion under constant snowfall, which is reminiscent of the home the Creator had imagined being in when with their friend. The Creator put a copy of his past self, specifically from the period of major depression over his relationship, in Mirrold, and they occasionally show up at this mansion and cry to themselves. They are hostile to any trespassers, but reminders of this failed relationship will stop them in their tracks.

I do recall, now that I think of it, there was another skeleton who became partially Corrupt, but never fully turned, and who lived with the models in the concrete building. Actually, they may have been an alternate version of Blueberry. I think the models that live there called them "Grape".

--A major downgrade: Junkedville--

It's much larger than Shatternia, but it's mostly empty desert. There is an exception: Salvagius. This is the one town in Junkedville, near the northern edge. Our factory rests at the northernmost point, and the rest of the place is houses and establishments made of sheet metal. The pub here is highly popular, mainly because it's impossible to die from overdrinking, as they add special ingredients that prevent death or impairments from extreme amounts, without lessening the actual enjoyment of it, including the drunkenness. This isn't completely effective, unfortunately, as you can tell from my entire workforce being in alchohol comas.

I did say that Shatternia was the only entrance, but that isn't completely true. In the factory, we are very capable of transporting people using the multiversal portals we have. We also considered opening them up to other creations for this uplink, but we aren't sure if it matters much anyway.

--Eternal war: Magicant--

Magicant is a small place, and there's not much left by now. Mages populated this place quite heavily before the Corruption followed us here. They have allied with us for the destruction of the Corruption, but they have blown half their island out of the sky trying to fight. There isn't much left to speak of...

--Mixed up anomaly: Lower Mirrold--

Lower Mirrold is... Difficult to understand. It's split into five sectors. These five sectors change randomly into portions of different worlds, bringing buildings, landscapes, and people with them into our own. This has caused many visitors to suddenly show up without intending to, and many strange scenarios where multiple characters and worlds combine in strange ways, causing strange situations. One we have documented in particular is still in progress, and the events until now are as follows.

1: Subject A ( Short/overweight/male, generally known as a thief, wears yellow and purple clothes, a cap with his first initial on it, and cyan eyeliner) receives a message from Subject B (Literally a fucking sponge) that proposes an exchange for taking B's job for a day in exchange for a stockpile of treasure. Subject A accepts, drives into ocean and finds Subject B's workplace.

It should be noted these two should not have known each other at all.

2: Subject A falls asleep on the job, establishment burns down. Subject A flees and finds stockpile. Subject B fires a nuclear bomb at his neighbor to threaten the arsonist who burned down the establishment. Subject A is transported to an unknown location for approximately 7 hours, before Lower Mirrold shifts again and any further events cease.

We have reason to believe whatever's been happening here is still happening now, but we have been too occupied with everything else we can't be certain.

--Core of Corruption: Corrupti--

Not much is known of Corrupti, other than Sally currently resides there and controls the Corrupted from it's core. It rose from Lower Mirrold some time after the event above had ceased. We don't know what to do about it, all we know is that it's ruining everything we worked so hard to achieve, and that we must end it... But we do not know how.

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

A few closing statements...

Firstly, I have been informed the Creator has documented the Lower Mirrold events mentioned above. I haven't been told where, though. Just that it's "On my tube", or something. If you happen to figure something out there, that would be helpful.

Second, I'm not completely certain the Creator has fully gotten over what happened with his relationship. I don't know if that's why he seems to be reluctant to help us, but either way I'm sure he'll figure himself out sooner or later. I hope, anyway.

Good night to you all. I hope you haven't forgotten us.

Oh, and to those of you in bad times, (lookingatyourox) just know your pain doesn't last forever, and all wounds can be healed with help and time. Also, do not try to end your pain early. It will only spreas your pain to others, and, if there is a place after life, give you a worse pain in your ghost.

...Sorry, if I'm being a bit too grim here. I'm in quite a grim mood, unfortunately. I think the Creator is, too.

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damn-the-dark · 5 years ago

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I'm craving for a soft Darkiplier oneshot but I usually find angst ;-; is it normal for wanting a soft and fluffy Dark?

Absolutely it is normal!! ;w; here’s a quick oneshot for you!! Let me just preface this with:

I Am Not A Writer

But like...uwu here’s some soft angst.

Ships: DarkiplierxReader(Y/N, the DA), DamienxReader

You’ve been rescued from the purgatory of stories Actor makes you live. You seek out the one who saved you to thank them.

------

Winter. It made the mansion shudder and groan under the harsh outside conditions, the snow had not let up since the previous night. You rubbed your hands together in an attempt to keep the chill off, unsurprisingly it failed. You cursed yourself for leaving your gloves back in your own room, clear across in the East wing.

You decided you’d rather sate your curiosity than go back for them. A single window, warmed by what you presumed was a fireplace, stood out against the storm and beckoned you from your room. You hadn’t been staying at the estate for very long, but the window had remained lit every night since you arrived, and stayed so long past all the others had darkened.

You had an idea of who resided there, when the others spoke of him it was always in a whisper and always full of respect. You’d only met him once, you think anyway, your memory was blurred beyond the moment you were suddenly brought to this place. Somehow though you knew he had done you a great favor. You owed him your thanks, and so you watched that window every night until you mustered the courage to brave the cold halls. Apparently central heating was not enough to warm the bones of the estate much less its occupants.

And so here you stood, outside the door left ajar, spilling warm flickering light out onto the tile floor. A faint hum in your ears and a chill prickling your spine. You peered inside.

He sat alone, aside the mantle, book resting on his lap, thumb on the corner of the page. It would have been a peaceful scene, but something hung in the air around him sapping the color from the walls and the light of the fire. His eyes were shadowed and sallow in their sockets and the fire’s light cast his whole form in a statuesque contrast.

“You can come in.” He didn’t look up.

You weren’t sure if it was the crackle of the wood or the hum in your ears that grew louder. You lightly opened the door wider and slipped inside.

Suddenly feeling awkward, you didn’t know what to say, be frank and state why you really crossed a frigid old mansion? Was that too strange?

The book thumped closed.

“Can I help you with something?” His voice was low, coupled with how his presence filled the room and you with unease, you could plainly see why the others were wise to fear him.

But when you met his gaze, he did not glower at you, but instead regarded you with…what? He was unreadable but at the very least he didn’t look to be angry.

“I wanted to get warm,” You spoke up finally, emphasizing your words with a shudder, “it’s pretty cold in my room.”

It wasn’t exactly the reason, but it would do at least maybe get your hands warmed by the fire.

He simply gestured to the couch across from him and you took that as an invitation to sit. He certainly didn’t seem apt to chat but at the very least maybe you could get used to his disconcerting presence enough to remember the words you wanted to say.

As you defrosted in the fire light, you were keen to keep an eye on him as he shelved the book he had been reading. It seemed it hadn’t been any kind of novel at all, but a yearbook. You couldn’t read the script the year was lettered in, but the binding looked quite old.

Something flitted in the back of your mind, but before you could identify the feeling, it was gone.

“Would you like a blanket?” The question startled you, not in its suddenness, but its softness.

“I’d love one, thanks.” He paced to an old chest beyond the bookcase, unlatched it and drew a woolen blanket from within. It too looked a bit dated, along with other items in the study. You got the feeling he had an affinity for art deco, though it had lost its radiance long ago, you could still see the geometric patterns adorning everything from the furniture to the mantle itself.

As he stepped closer, the hum escalated to a dull ringing and the entire room warped to and fro in shades of dull grey. You wondered what unearthly sort of being he was, but weren’t alarmed by the shift in reality around you. It somehow offered another twinge of familiarity.

A vision took your consciousness, of another night like this one, in a study similar to the one you were in. Where was it? You couldn’t recall, but a person sat beside you, also warming themselves from the chill.

You were suddenly back in reality, blanket draped across you. Did he set it there? The world was in technicolor again, except of course where he stood next to the window. His gaze was distant.

“Have I been here before?” You asked, partially without thinking. “Something about being here…brought back a memory.”

He stiffened a bit. “No you haven’t been here specifically.”

Your incurable case of curiosity flared up again. Swathing yourself in the blanket you got up.

“I came here to say thank you.” Your voice was soft. You stepped around the couch toward him. “I don’t know how, but I know I’m safe here. I can’t remember much about anything before this, but I know it… wasn’t good.”

He turned to face you, a somber look on his face. You recalled someone- a friend maybe?- who would give a similar expression, but you couldn’t place who exactly.

“Of course.” His cool timbre was reassuring. “I wouldn’t let you live like that, if I could help it.”

“I just…need to know, who are you, exactly.” You took another step, allowing the greyness to tinge your vision. “The others call you Dark but…” But the more you look through the grey your memory grows clearer, cyan begins to dance in his silhouette. Something about you being in his aura, close to him, his shared -yes shared! – memories with yours came into view.

A thousand meetings, over and over, in a bizarre purgatory of another man’s making. But beyond that…

A warm college study on a frigid winter day. You’d stayed on campus for the holiday break, content to study you law books for the upcoming semester. And of course, the parties this time of year were the stuff of legend.

The crackle of the fire filled the air and dulled the sound of footsteps beside you.

“Still at it, hm?” You could hear the crooked grin in his voice.

You disguised the flutter in your chest with a deliberately patronizing reply. “Some of us would like to graduate at some point.” But you smiled through it and set your notebook and texts aside. “It can’t all be wild and fun times now can it?”

His grin broadened. “Of course not dear,” his gaze was warm, “but would you perhaps consider postponing your studies for the evening? There’s a wonderful event in the fine art hall tonight and you know I simply can’t go without my partner in crime.”

“Perhaps I’d consider it,” You reply, tapping your chin in mock deliberation, a soft smile creased your cheeks, “if you’d have a seat here for a moment I’ll finish this chapter.”

“I’d be happy to.” He took a seat next to you, close, but not quite in your space. Your flutter grows in intensity.

You try to focus on your reading but your eyes get lost on the page and soon wander over to him. You’d grown close over the past few years as your courses were in shared subjects. He was a kind man, you’d never know he came from money. He respected you and you respected him. It would be a shame to ruin your friendship by confessing your feelings for him.

As your thoughts turned inward, you found the late nights catching up with you. Allowing the glow of the fire to lull you, you didn’t feel yourself slowly slide to the side.

You awoke to an arm wrapped softly around you and the blanket that had been atop the couch draped over you, including your forgotten books.

“Damien…” You managed through the sleep.

“Awake at last I see.” You glanced up. He was so gorgeous with the orange light flickering across his features. He regarded you through drowsy half-lidded eyes of his own. A powerful emotion welled up in your throat, overcoming your waking inhibitions.

“Damien, I-“

Tears slid from your eyes. You remembered.

“Damien.” Your lips clung tightly to the name, desperately, as to not lose it again.

Your heart stung. You knew it wasn’t him anymore but it didn’t stop you from regarding the entity who shared his face with the same love you felt for him.

“You… may call me that.” The pain was visible in the flashes of red and blue behind him, “but only fragments of him remain.”

Overcome with the weight of your own returned memories, your knees sank to the floor, coming to rest on the hot tile in front of the fireplace. You stared into it through glassy eyes.

In a breath he was beside you. Close, but not in your space. A cold hand brushed your cheek and delicately turned you to face him.

“If. It means anything at all to you. I can feel how he did. He loved you very much.”

And that was all it took. You wrapped your arms around him, the greyness freezing the room around you into a still quiet. Your sobs were the only sound to be heard.

It was like that for a while. Somehow, he held you until you’d exhausted yourself and your fits of tears subsided. You focused on the sensation of static where you touched him. Oh Dames, what happened to you.

He ran his hand through your hair, a slow and soothing motion. You finally mustered the strength to sit up and face him… the one they called Dark. The one they feared, the one with so much rage inside him it bled into the air itself.

“I’m sorry. I know…I know you’re not the same. But, you’ve watched over me this whole time. You saved me. Thank you.”

You leaned forward unaware you were doing so. He kissed you softly on the forehead, static tinged the contact.

“Of course my dear.”

The sound of his voice still lingered in your ears and the kiss on your skin as you found yourself back in your own room. Wispy darkness receded into the corners.

A note sat atop your nightstand and when the weight in your body lightened enough, you moved over to read it.

Next time, please remember your gloves.

-Dark

A choked laugh bubbled up through you. You promised him silently you would.

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