#i personally much prefer survival servers between friends

[randomwords247]

Oh right I forgot I was gonna say, I think it's really sick and cool that they've been able to make a public lifesteal server!! I hopped on and played for an hour or two last night

However I got so caught up in the excitement of public lifesteal, I forgot what lifesteal was.

I got in and like got a decent amount of cool loot including a diamond helmet! Left a dungeon and was instantly chased down by a player in fully enchanted diamond gear. Tried to pearl away and hide in a water cave and got killed. No words exchanged, nothing

Cuz it's kill or be killed. I also right after (with not even starter gear or armour) got killed by a player who in the safe zone had done the shifting peace sign and gave me a piece if lapis, only to be killed by them instantly once I got outta safe zone.

I forgot I'm not personally a fan of like faction servers and the like, being at the whim of being killed by any passing player with no words given by either party. And like, I think that is a pitfall of a public server of that nature so I wanna talk about it quickly

With lifesteal, the CCs are friends, there's VCs and deals done and there's a lot more communication

With a public server you lose that, any player is just an extra heart, an extra kill. You don't know them and there may not be any guilt cuz to you, it's just another kill. Its kill or be killed and anyone seen will be killed on sight. Rather than negotiating, talking as you approach, trapping, etc that's in a private friend's server. It's different, but its difficult to avoid this pitfall in a public server. Honestly likely unavoidable

I really enjoyed playing the life series me and my friends did because we were friends in that, and there was guilt, there were traps, tricks, rather than just. Seeing a player and killing them

I'm really happy for the lifesteal crew that they've been able to do this and I do think its really cool, it's just not my personal cup of tea in server types. I'd absolutely be down for like a lifesteal between friends, like an unofficial server with a similar gimmick, but a public one with no prox chat or VC or knowing anyone definitely isn't the type of server I personally enjoy. I've never been one for faction servers

But if you are, definitely go and check it out! I don't wanna discourage anyone I just wanted to ramble a bit :D

[a-moonlit-flower]

Character Profile: Shuri

The Basics –––

Age: 31

Race: Auri Xaela

Gender: Female

Server: Balmung, Crystal/Adamantoise, Aether

Physical Appearance –––

Hair: white

Eyes: Heterochromatic. Right eye is silver, left is blue

Height: 4′9"

Build: curvy, toned due to her training as a dancer

Distinguishing Marks: Scars from her battles as a Warrior of Light

Common Accessories: None.

Personal –––

Profession: Stay-at-home wife and mother, retired WoL, occasional weaver

Hobbies: dancing, weaving

Languages: Common, Xaelic

Residence: Goblet

Birthplace: The Azim Steppe

Religion: Nhaama and Azim

Patron Deity: Nhaama

Fears: Losing her loved ones

Traits –––

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information –––

Smoking Habit: None

Drugs: None

Alcohol: Occasionally, but never in front of the children

RP Hooks (this is more WoLverse heavy)–––

Polycule. Shuri’s marriage is open, so she and Estinien have romantic partners within their relationship. They formed their own little village to raise the kids. They are very open about this, so that no one misunderstands the dynamic of her family or relationships and how it's working.

Daughter of Nhaama. She is devoted to her faith as a Xaela and is loathed to have her faith and traditions disrespected. As there isn't much Xaela lore, a lot of it has been headcanoned by me.

Wife, Mother, Friend. Shuri is a wife, a mother, and a loyal friend. If her friends ask something of her, she is there in an instant. She also is a bit maternal to her friends and very protective of them.

Can't Take the Steppe Out of the Lady: As Shuri was not born in Eorzea, she still does have an accent due to being born at the Steppe (personal headcanon of mine). She fled to Eorzea when her tribe's village was decimated by Garleans as a child and did what she could to survive.

Mun Notes---

Straight up due to my job, my scheduling is a little whack. I am fine with using mobile ways to RP, i.e docs, discord, whichever is preferred.

I am typically fine with RPing any scenario as it progresses, including those that hold dark themes. My hard Hell No's are anything that noncon that are introduced without any sort of discussion. Had that happen before and I will absolutely not go through it again.

My DMs on tumblr are currently for blogs that follow this one just so I don't get weird spam (you know the ones).

[inquisimer]

✨20 Questions for Fic Writers✨

thanks @nirikeehan for the tag!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

42

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

226,296

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Dragon Age at the moment, plus a hint of Dishonored. In the past I've also written for The Mortal Instruments/Shadowhunter Chronicles and MCU.

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Grace In Denial: oneshot, f!Hawke x Anders - mostly fluff with a hint of emotional hurt/comfort Ended in Love: oneshot, f!Trevelyan x Cullen - some classic mage-Templar angst (cw: forced sterilization, abuse) Lamentations of the Living: oneshot, f!Mahariel x Alistair - the Dark Ritual/Ultimate Sacrifice debate It Will Have To Be Enough: oneshot, f!Lavellan x Cullen - Cullen waits for her to come back at Adamant Conditionally: oneshot, f!Lavellan x Cullen - Lavellan's clan does not approve of her relationship with a human

5. do you respond to comments?

I try! But I am very slow at it, and when the backlog gets too much I psych myself out about it. Currently working on convincing myself that it's not weird to reply to comments from many months ago😅

6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Mostly A Lie,about an Inquisitor who breaks up with Blackwall at his judgement and a Blackwall POV of her subsequent relationship with Cullen

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Apple Whiskey, which is an all around fluffy fic about Alistair helping my Inquisitor Neria escape one of Josephine's parties.

8. do you get hate on fics?

I haven't yet, nope! And I know that if I did, I would bitch about it to my friends, block the user, and delete the comment. So what if we just didn't, hm?

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

A bit, perhaps. It's an eventual goal of mine to be more comfortable writing it, but that's definitely a work in progress.

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Nope! Personally not a fan of crossovers.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope!

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Sort of, as I participated in the DAFF Discord Server round robin anniversary event where we all popcorn wrote a crackfic. Other than that, nope! I think it could be really fun, though :3

14. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

Horation Caine x Marisol Delko (CSI: Miami - I will never write fic for them but their canon story makes me f e r a l)

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

My Inquisitor!Carver AU. The idea is compelling af, but I have other DAI retellings that I want to write more.

16. what are your writing strengths?

Character backstory, description in general

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

DIALOGUE, dialogue tags, making endings (to chapters or oneshots) sound like endings without being cheesy AF

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I like it, both as a reader and a writer! It can be used well for character flavoring, but is also frequently misused in a way that makes fic harder to read. If it's large chunks of text, especially with plot relevant information, I prefer another indicator that the language has shifted, like italics or a dialogue tag. I think it works best when the author has a reason for it besides "they're speaking another language", like they don't want the readers to understand what's being said, or the character is trying to deceive someone who doesn't speak that language.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

MCU Avengers

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written?

HMMMM probably a toss up between Inquisitor as a Companion: Neria Surana Lavellan (faux DA wiki page entry for my inquisitor) and after all this survival (a snapshot of Siobhan Hawke as Viscountess in Kirkwall)

Blank template below the cut! Tagging: @oxygenforthewicked | @rosella-writes | @demarogue | @plisuu | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | and anyone who wants to use me as their excuse to do this :3

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

3. what fandoms do you write for?

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

5. do you respond to comments?

6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. do you get hate on fics?

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? T

16. what are your writing strengths?

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

19. first fandom you wrote for?

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written?

[pitruli]

Minecraft headcanon worldbuilding: world types and respawn mechanics

You guys seemed to really like my post about players' subspecies, and thank you so much ! I'm really glad people find this interesting, and so I have a lot more to add to my lore, more things to talk about and develop over time.

So here's the next chapter;

Like last time, all of this is only my personal interpretation of what I see in different Mcyt series, or how the game feels to me when I'm playing it. I'm using all this world building to help with illustration or for background in my fanfic [Dreamers and the Dead].

Switch: the act of travelling to another world. Players can either do it on purpose, be forced by a mechanic, or do so with external help.

Knowledge: what a player knows about the universe code. Raw code lines are hard to find, and players usually gain their knowledge thanks to other more experienced players sharing it. Having more Knowledge allows players to use some mechanics, like switching at will, using the admin rights, looking for hidden player data or even the modification of worlds.

World generation

The universe is vast, and for any living being, its form is inconceivable. But one thing is sure to be known, the universe is made of an infinite amount of small, physical and concrete parts, linked to each other and at the same time, out of reach from one another.

These parts are called worlds, and are all unique. Even though they are meant to be the same, not every world is equal. Over time and by travelling from a world to another, players were able to observe different types.

Common world:

A vast majority of the time, the world will be exactly as it should, allowing life of players and mobs to flourish. It is in these world that we can study the different types of player societies the best;

City world;

They are massive worlds, housing an enormous population of players. Most players are either born in one or have lived in one at some point of their life. The management of such worlds, a monstrous task, is only possible with a community of admins, sharing their knowledge. Often, admins of other smaller worlds were formed thanks to the ruling council of a city world. Example: any public server, Hypixel and such being the biggest in existence. Even small public server are still consider city worlds

Survival Memory Pact;

Even if their population is significantly smaller, this is the most common type of society construct. Survival Memory Pact, or shortened as SMP, are small and tight groups of players, a family or (more or less) close friends. They are either formed spontaneously (when players fall in the same random world) or with serious planning beforehand (players wanting to leave their city world for example) Depending on how they formed, they may or may not have an admin, competent enough or not. Some SMPs settle in place definitely once they find a good world. Some others prefer to be more nomadic, changing world every decade for example. Example: any Hermitcraft season, Empires, every private servers between friends, etc

Lone players and Runners:

There also exist a lot of players who leave by themselves, lone inhabitants of an entire world or living far away from cities and SMP groups. However, the most notable type of lone players are the Runners. They are nomadic players who constantly change world, mastering the techniques of forced switching. Their goal is to hunt for more Knowledge by themselves. While admins on city worlds transfer their knowledge to newer admins over time, Runners prefer to get it by themselves, and the only way to obtain new lines of raw Code is to kill the dragon of one world, and break her egg. Now that we learn about some social structures, let's head to the other types of generated worlds. While most worlds are correctly generated, some happen to be different from normality, whether by being made on a different structure or being glitchy.

Hardcore world;

Contrary to belief, hardcore doesn't depend on the players, but on the world itself. A player won't permanently die if they black out in an hardcore world. The worlds are supposed to help the players regenerate if they fall in their protective black out ("in game death", supposed to protect the player from a lethal hit). However, hardcore worlds, instead of helping, will just force the player to leave. They are in fact weaker worlds, not able to handle regeneration. Some adventurous players, once experimented enough, like to find these weaker worlds on purpose, just for the thrill of it. It is still possible to switch out of these worlds, as the rest of its mechanics are perfectly normal. Example: Philza's worlds, 100h smp

Decayed worlds;

They are theorised to be the outer edge of the universe, and will often bear signs of a past community of players who might have lived there long before. If they at first appeared normal, apart from the ruins (things that can be found even in common worlds, it isn't that rare to fall in a random world years after an SMP left it), they are in fact the glitchiest type of world, sometimes too old to correctly function. Known features are, for example, lack of one or both sub dimensions (nether and/or end), missing bits and pieces of mechanics or unstable land and erratic weather. The most notable ones however, are the destructive regeneration, and the impossibility to switch out of there without external contact. This undoubtedly traps players who don't possess enough Knowledge to escape, possibly doomed because of the glitchy regeneration, which could kill them way faster than any mass respawn. A player falling in one of these worlds is either because of bad luck, or as repercussions to forced switching to an extent. Example: Dream SMP, Third/Last life (artificially decayed)

Collapsing worlds;

This is the rarest type, known to some players only as urban legends in city worlds and amongst occasional smps. If at first they also appear to be normal, they are in fact subject to an inevitable doom, a major catastrophic event that no line of universe Code can stop; it's the death of a part of the universe itself. Some players that know about these events fear it might not be a type of world by itself, but the fate of any given world. Records of these dooms were only because the worlds where it happened were unlucky to die way earlier.|| Switching out of a world like this is still possible, but hard to achieve. Once they know doomsday is coming, players must find a way to leave, or they might risk immediate death or permanent heavy damage to their code. Exemple: Hermitcraft Season 8

Black out and regeneration

I mentioned "in game deaths" and regeneration a few times, a key element unique to players, which grants them a conditional immortality. But this feature actually greatly depends on the world in which a black out happened. A player can only take so much regenerations, and perma death exists everywhere in the universe, there is no such place as "having unlimited life". But the natural amount of black out and regeneration a player can endure is so grand it is hard to comprehend for us humans. It is way too hard to keep track of life esperency amongst the whole player kind, but the default esperency is expected to be about a couple milenas with normal regenerations. If a player succeeds in never enduring any black out, they might as well be technically immortal. This amount of regeneration a player can endure is what makes the Life bar, a hidden data unique to each player, which can only be seen if the players know how to look for it. Unlike the Heart bar (the amount of damage a player can take before blacking out), the Life bar never regenerates and can only go down. It also keeps its states no matter the world the player is in. This means if a player endured a couple regenerations in a decayed world, they are left with a Life bar lower than other player "their age". To try to sum up in an easy way, the Life bar is somewhat like a counting down clock. It ticks down only when the player experiences "in game death". In a decayed world, these back out do way more damage to the bar than normally. Players avoid black out as much as they can, even if they have an enormous amount possible on normal worlds; it's not a pleasing process and coming back takes times. When a group is settling in a new world, players can often be stressed about being the first one to black out there, not knowing if the regeneration will be harmful or not, when they don't have the right knowledge to check it without experiencing a Black out. I won't explain the concept of perma Death right away, as I will present it in a later post with Life etc. But I can say that, while in the process of regeneration, players can actually be considered dead. Their souls and essences go to the same place as permanently dead players, only temporarily: Dead Worlds. Except nobody really knows it haha I think that's basically all I have for worlds and regeneration ! Thank you a lot if you read everything <3 Please do not hesitate to ask anything if you want to know more, I may have not explain in the best way possible ^^''

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

I was going to actually post this before asks closed (didn’t get the chance), but Teddy Bear Anon, you are one of my favorite people and a magnificent creature. You get my vibe. 

About Bad canonically being Sapnap’s dad I feel like that has so much extra angst potential when we consider the rest of the found family. Like. Sapnap, Tommy, and Fundy all have dads who started with the best of intentions but for one reason or another ended up slowly becoming a danger to them. I imagine Tommy and Fundy one day showing up with a cake and telling Sapnap “We regretfully welcome you to the shit dad club” and Sapnap is torn between being upset still and laughing over the absurdity of the situation.

Bonus points if Tommy made the cake using a recipe book that Niki gave him, the last gift Niki ever gave to Tommy. Tommy was originally a really bad cook/baker but after the egg really started to take over he went full survivalist. Leaning to cook was necessary but learning to bake was something he did as a way to raise everyone’s spirits. He’s never gotten the flavor quite to match with Niki’s perfectly but everyone agrees he’s gotten pretty decent in terms of skills. He and Fundy in particular will sometimes just spend an entire day in silence baking and then quietly eat their creations while reflecting on the friends they’ve made and lost over the course of L'manberg’s lifetime. When the group got back to the past and Niki made cookies for Tommy and Fundy the pair very nearly started crying.

Tommy is in an interesting position as a character since he did commit a lot of minor crimes and acted as a general nuisance but he was also still a child. (A very traumatized one considering I canonize SMP Earth with its unlimited lives but even more wars. Including against God. Tommy fought God just let me have this.) He acknowledges the moments when he went over the line and has tried to apologize. In particular at some point before the egg fully takes over he pulls aside Jack and tells him that he’s sorry for the way he acted when he was still in exile, taking one of Jack’s lives and all. Jack and Niki in particular are an interesting subject to address and a painful one for immune!Tommy to think about when he sees younger Niki because the three never fully tossed out the hatchet but it was obvious in the eyes of someone like Sam that both of them were growing more and more hesitant to hurt Tommy. It was made worse by the fact neither were even marginally immune, and it didn’t take long for the egg to get to them.

He never stopped being chaotic. Tommy at his core is just that kind of person. He did, however, grow up enough to act in a more mature manner. Started to recognize what’s too much. In particular he became a lot less violent and willing to lash out after Sam Nook in essence reparented him. He’s still an absolute wild card of a person, which in the eyes of Sam and Sapnap is a good thing. For this au I think we should actually address Tommy having severe ptsd and during the building of his hotel/the early days of the egg before it becomes a noticeable threat it shows. He’s a lot more subdued. Shows of aggression all carry a kind of desperation and his typical jokes feel flat. Lashing out at people slowly becomes more of a defense mechanism to see if someone’s going to leave or betray him, to test the limits of how nice they’re willing to be. After all, nice people have only ever been nice to Tommy when they wanted something from him. His eyes, especially after L'manberg is blow sky high, are well and truly gray. The first time Tommy genuinely laughs after filling Sapnap’s room with chickens is considered celebration worthy to them. His pranks take on a more hermitcraft-esque feel to them which honestly makes them more funny.

By the time they get to the past Tommy has recovered, but he still carries the kind of maturity that like Teddy Bear mentioned is reminiscent of age swap Tommy. When he gets especially stressed though, Immune!Tommy will slip into moments where he acts as tired and done with the world as age swap Tommy. With that said, most of the time he just acts like a more mature Tommy. Nothing could ever completely erase his unique vibe which Ranboo has gone on record as describing “Willing to fight God deaf, blind, and backwards just to prove a point." 

Immune Fundy and Tommy get on really well once Fundy manages to catch up with the rest of the group. It gets to the point where everyone from the past is kinda shocked since smp Fundy and Tommy do not get along. At all. Literally the first night Fundy’s back someone goes to wake them up and they find Fundy asleep on top of Tommy which is a wild experience since this Tommy is a goliath who often refuses to take off his full Netherite max enchant armor. He really becomes a "looks like he could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll” kinda mans.

Also, yeah, this is Dream’s retirement arc. He is literally just sitting in the corner watching Tommy dote on his younger self and Tubbo before completely pile driving two of the most powerful people on the server straight into the dirt. At some point Tommy sits down with past Punz. He tells this Punz that their Punz died protecting him and Tubbo and that Tommy never got to properly thank their Punz so he’s going to thank this Punz. Tommy then gives Punz an entire stack of Netherite. If we’re gonna go ahead and agree on Phoenix Tommy then Tommy is fire proof, meaning he probably spent a large amount of time in the nether to avoid the egg crew and get rare supplies. Meaning he also probably did a lot of mining just to distract himself and it resulted in him being loaded. Tommy used to have a fear of tnt and explosives but he seems like the type of mad lad to say “exposure therapy” and make a massive cavern in the underbelly of the nether.

I think it would also be really interesting to dedicate like, a couple of chapters to other people’s perspectives. I kind of want to set the time they arrive in the past partway through the Pogtopia arc since I like mildly unhinged but not completely gone Wilbur. Plus then it also makes more sense for Techno to be there. Just prefer the aesthetic really. I want to have Wilbur see this version of Tommy and come to a sudden “oh” moment. I want to have a moment where Tubbo looks between his Tommy and this new Tommy, seeing himself nowhere to be found, and has enough what the fuck moments to become aggressively protective of his own Tommy. Especially if immune!Tommy ever admits to the past Tubbo why he is the way he is, what he faced under the thumb of the people he trusted. Which, out of everyone on the server, Tubbo would be the first one from the past to actively learn. 

I am fully on board with Tommy knowing how to sew. That should just automatically be canon in literally ever AU. Tommy for all intents and purposes is still Phil’s child for me. Survival runs in the family the same way that chaos does, so he’s got a ton of basic survival skills that he just doesn’t show off because it’s still Tommy. He would have been completely fine in exile if it wasn’t for Dream. Whenever someone ruins their clothes in the Immune group they automatically go to Tommy and at first the past versions are very confused (except for past Tommy and Tubbo obviously) and then Tommy’s just “Sapnap this is beyond ruined it can’t be saved, let me make you something new” and within a couple days he makes Sapnap a completely new outfit. Like maybe Sapnap fell into a lava pool because Blaze Sapnap Supremacy and his clothes are beyond saving and everyone is beyond baffled when Tommy just acts like this is a weekly occurrence. He’s memorized Sapnap’s measurements and style tastes and already had a new outfit in the works for him that Sapnap immediately adores upon it being presented to him. It takes about a week for past Eret to learn that Tommy stress sews new clothing and he cannot think of a better model. Eret has never had such a full closet. Eret has everything from three piece suits to ball gowns now. Eret lives in terror of the days where Tommy disappears god knows where with Fundy and the two reappear with a new wardrobe for the entire god damn server. 

Speaking of disappearing I really like the idea of part phoenix and part tanuki Tommy for a couple reasons. Being a Tanuki he’d have access to enough magic to hide his hybrid traits, which if they’ve been present for long enough would be a necessity to him. Additionally think about Fundy and Tommy building a den under Church Prime that slowly turns into a maze. Think about it. It starts off simple and then they both start digging more and it gets deeper and deeper and more complicate and the two just refer to it as their den and the only ones who are fully aware of the connotations of that word are Sam, Sapnap, and Ranboo who remember the absolute hell that was trying to navigate the original. Just Fundy and Tommy bonding over the fact they are literally the only creatures on this server that have this catacomb memorized and at the end of the catacomb is their saferoom which connects to rail way that the two spent a month straight on. It goes at least 25k blocks from spawn and it’s a final emergency resort in case they can’t stop the egg and the Immunes needs to regroup and essentially try again (if they keep bringing their younger selves with them then hopefully they’ll finally get an army large enough to stop this, but everyone really hopes it doesn’t come to that.)

I’m working on the first chapter of my fic right now actually if I’m gonna be honest and phoenix Tommy is absolutely without question canon to it but I’ve still been going back and forth on if I want him to be part tanuki as well or just blessed/favored by one like Teddy Bear mentioned. I’m also tucking away the whole thing about the magma blood for later use. Phoenix Tommy just makes sense. They used to call him Zombie Kid for a reason back on SMP Earth, he just literally does not die ever unless he decides he does.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

[taichissu]

In light of the eng a3 server getting shut down, do you have any (preferably mobile) game recs besides the jp server? Hope you have a great day :)

i'm not the right person to ask that bc i mostly just rotate between 5 apps nndbfbdnnf

keep in mind i dont really like games like a3 which are wholly story-driven and have no actual gameplay other than card collection, so you're gonna have to ask someone else for recommendations on that, but if you're open minded here's some recs from me

rhythm games:

love live is a long-running franchise so there's A LOT of content and many various characters to work with, the game is rather polished, if not a little cluttered bc of the updates over all those years, the gacha mechanism has become very generous too so thats refreshing, and as for songs you can find music of various genres but all within similar quality so its nice, i would consider the art style its biggest flaw, but we cant have everything

project sekai is fairly fresh (the en servers were just opened in december) and i very much prefer the gameplay of it to love live sif, it feels very clean and satisfying to play, the art style is also lovely, as is the music which additionally gives many great indie producers a better platform, the worst thing about it is the gacha though (the odds arent very high and the pity system is as ridiculous as on a3)

titles i dont play regularly but still think are fun: arcaea, dynamix, uta no prince sama, deemo

team-building games:

love live school idol festival all stars is a spinoff of sif, it focuses mostly on building your team and making your girls stronger, the gacha is pretty generous in my opinion, as it tends to be in this franchise, i find art much better here than in sif, the MVs are a lovely part of this game, a HUGE plus of this game is how easy it is, sometimes you just need to play a game casually and still do well bc you cant afford to use upore of your energy (i can assure you you can get every event UR just by doing your dailies, ive done so multiple times before)

revue starlight re:live is a very addictive team-building game which i'm pretty sure was based of magia record, the mechanics of it are the exact same so if you've played magia record you know what to do; you collect stage girls, make them stronger and fight monsters/other stage girls, i have to say i pretty much only play this game because of nana and fumi anymore; the gacha and the related to it pvp are awfully unfair and unbalanced, the game keeps releasing new game-breaking girls every few days and it's simply impossible to pull every single banner if you're f2p, so pretty much everyone in pvp ranks above S is p2w

grand chase is another one that i havent played in a while but its a huge comfort game, the music is super nostalgic and the modern re-designs of all my favorite characters are so high tier

thats it for my main apps and now on to time-killers if youre not bored yet

idle games my guilty pleasure:

masketeers has been my most recent addiction, the art style is lovely and its not littered with ads whenever you touch your screen, their there but its Actually optional

other idles i used to play a lot but i took a break and now the sole thought of opening the app fills me with unreasonable dread: legends of idleon (top tier), afk arena, pet idle

other games i dont know how to categorize but good games for killing time: evan's remains, data wing, fantasyxrunners, magic survival, meow tower, old friends dog game, post knight, sky children of the light, sonic forces running battle, world flipper, zen koi

[angstbabyjae]

DSMP Tier List

This tier list was shared in a discord server I’m in, so I thought I’d give it a go. Not entirely satisfied with the section titles, so I used them quite liberally. I will explain why I put people where I did. On the tier itself I didn’t order them by preference but in my explanation I will. Please not that they will be ranked from favorite to least favorite per category (for example: I put Sapnap technically above Niki despite liking her character more) and not by how much they deserve to be in each category (for example: I prefer Technoblade to Phil but I believe people excuse Technoblade’s actions more than Phil’s). I encourage healthy suggestion in the comments since I only joined the fandom around the Green Festival and haven’t seen the history/POV’s of every character, though I try. Enjoy.

Gonna slap on a big ol’ “/rp” here just to be safe.

You've done nothing wrong come here (holds you gently)

So the thing about this section is that I don't believe any dream smp character is completely innocent, so I used this section more like a top of tier than as it's title implies.

1. TommyInnit

Ngl, Tommy is my favorite character in the Dream SMP. As a fellow Loud Person I relate to him a lot and his feelings that nobody really likes him. His mental health struggles are close to my heart and (SPOILERS) his death just made me so devastated. I really hope they don't end his arc like this. Not when he was just starting to heal, please. Tommy has certainly done a lot of things wrong. I'd highly recommend watching the exile decision from both Tubbo and Tommy's POV's because you can really get a grasp of their mindsets. Despite this, he is my fave.

2. Ranboo

Until recently I preferred Tubbo to Ranboo, but cc!Ranboo just totally outdid himself on lore and acting to the point where I couldn't deny it anymore. Ranboo did do *some* things wrong, but they are less extreme than many on this list (I don't count things he might have done under Dream's control since he wasn't conscious). Ranboo's character makes me go into protecc mode. So yeah, very good enderboi.

3. Tubbo_

Tubbo doesn't have much lore for his character, but like I do with many others on this list, I like to overanalyze and interpret certain characters to be deeper than they are. The Tubbo I have in my head is a lot more complex than what cc!Tubbo probably meant to portray. There is so much angst potential with his character, similar to many others, but what puts him top tier for me is the emotional connection I have to his character and how I relate to getting so much put on my shoulders and having to make tough decisions.

you're an amazing character

Okay so technically Schlatt should be on this list if we are speaking from a narrative standpoint, but seeing as the way OP labelled the other sections on this chart I'm guessing they meant morally as well.

4. Alex Quackity

Quackity is my favorite adult character. I don't even know why, I just love the idea of this comic relief character becoming such a catalyst for plot and more serious as time goes on. I love taking the dream smp characters and making them deeper than they probably are, as I do with Tubbo, but now it seems cc!Quackity is fully taking his character to the height of his potential and I can't wait to see what he does with him next.

5. AweSamDude

(SPOILERS) As such a big Tommy fan I must admit, my first thought when Tommy died was that Sam was partly responsible. If Dream told him what he did to Tommy in exile like he claims then he would have at least put up the obsidian barrier between them or something. After watching Ranboo's most recent stream (right now it's March 3rd) I understand why Sam did what he did more. My initial anger towards him has dissipated a bit. I still love his character so much. He really did care about Tommy and now... dang. I can't wait to see what happens with him next.

6. Captain Puffy

It was very close between ranking her or Sam higher, but given all the in depth character stuff we're getting from Sam right now, I'd have to rank him above. Despite this, Puffy is a character that I started out not knowing anything about and am now feeling her climb the ranks in my books. Sometimes I feel like she's the only adult who actually put Tommy's well-being above other things, despite them not interacting often. I wasn't around for the whole "duckling" thing with Dream and have yet to watch the VODs, but I just want her to visit him now and punish him for the Tommy stuff. (SPOILERS) I can feel Dream's next ploy being trying to convince someone to let him out in exchange for bringing back Tommy and if Sam doesn't cave then Puffy probably will. Also, I really hope that her and Niki's relationship isn't forgotten. There's so much angst potential there. Also, I need sapphics to survive.

7. Eret

So, I wasn't a fan of the SMP during season one. I hadn't even heard of it except for like my friend referencing Technoblade now and then. After watching some VODs of Eret's I am slowly starting to fall in love with her characterization. I am so soft for their redemption arc, for the regret he feels. Now that cc!Eret is back from their mental health break I am so ready for more.

8. Fundy

Fundy's a character that I will forget how much I love until he goes live again, or until I reread his old quotes. He has a lot of lore to him that surprises you every time you remember. Whether its his last speech to Schlatt to COCONUT 2020, Fundy always gives the audience something more to think about.

9. "Ghostbur"

Ghostbur is one of the few characters who genuinely make me want to cry. cc!Wilbur's performance was both hilarious and immaculate. I really want to find out more about his lore, though. Do all dead people with unfinished business get an alternate version of themselves to roam the Earth while you stay in the afterlife unable to make contact unless the veil is thin? Was Ghostbur just Wilbur pretending the whole time? (SPOILERS) Is Tommy going to get one? Is Glatt canon? Much to think about.

10. BadBoyHalo

While I despise egg-possessed BBH, normal BBH has my entire heart. The fact he gave up his mind for Skeppy is *chef's kiss*. I am very impressed with everything cc!BBH is writing right now.

11. Karl Jacobs

My second favorite polyamorous dimension hopper after Star Butterfly (let me have Startomco please)! TFTSMP just gets better and better each week. His time travel shenanigans are so fun and mysterious. Karlnapity is just a big ol' pot of angst just waiting to happen. WEDDING SOON PLEASE!

no intense opinion

While I do have opinions on some of these characters, they aren't intense enough to place them anywhere else.

12. Ponk

I don't watch him all that often since he's live during my school time, but what I've seen I love. Him starting that whole side plot expanding on that one TFTSMP episode intrigues me and I can see it tying into the egg somehow. Him and Sam are really cute together (/rp) and I want him to become more plot relevant again.

13. Antfrost

GAY CAT GAY CAT GAY CAT! In all seriousness, I really want him to do stuff with his character to make him more than just BBH's second-in-command (I have similar feelings with Skeppy, but I know he isn't very big on lore). Side note, but I really love the hc that RedVelvetCake is inside the egg. I want him to join so bad.

14. Purpled

I've only just started watching the actual clips from pre-L'Manberg times and Purpled was once much more plot involved than I thought. Him planning on getting his revenge on Tommy at the same time as the "police" investigating the Camarvan back in early season one was comedy gold. Shout out to BlueberryTV on YouTube for making it so easy to watch. In conclusion, we stan an underage mercenary.

15. GeorgeNotFound

Idk if this is a hot take or not, but I feel a good portion of people who love George's character are just DNF shippers who want to turn his crumbs into an angst factory, but you know what? Valid. While I am not a DNF shipper, I have seen the angst y'all have brought to the table and very much appreciate it.

16. ConnorEatsPants

The most I think I've seen of Connor has been the hostage scene and the non-canon party scene from this season. I don't have much to say except that his small speech to Tommy after he was let go about him not being a bad person despite traumatizing him hit surprisingly hard in the feels.

17. Skeppy

cc!Skeppy is not a big roleplayer, and I get that, it's just sometimes his character feels a little like an accessory to Bad's character. Please link me some good Skeppy moments in the comments if you can, I want to try and learn more about his character. His angst with Bad right now is top tier, though, and I choose to believe that Big Daddy Island is canon and that Bad took him there to keep him free from the egg. I actually wrote a fic about this if you want to check it out! Mind the tags, though, I went a little macabre with it.

18. HBomb

When I first learned about the SMP it was two nights before the green festival and I was up until 3am at my aunt's house reading the plot summary. The first clip of the smp I saw was the election VOD, where HBomb joined for the first time. I don't know much about him other than the fact he was Fundy's maid for a time and it was absolutely hilarious. I saw the recent stuff with him leaving Greater SMP to start over and enjoyed it. Hope we get more stuff like that with him.

19. Callahan

Gets all the ladies. What else can I say?

you're trying your best and I respect that

20. Sapnap

I put Sapnap here because he's on his way to becoming an amazing character. The angst stuff with Dream is the stuff George fans can only dream of (pun unintended). I like how he went from the cop, the pet killer, Dream's right hand man, to mushroom cottegecore gay living his best life and dealing with the pain of losing his best friend. The whole "Dream's bitch" conversation with Tommy that I saw an animatic for some time ago made me hurt so good. Also #KarlnapityWedding2021.

you're redeemable, thin fucking ice though

These are characters who I somewhat dislike to a degree, but still have hope for. In my opinion this section should be switched with the one after it in terms of which is worse, but oh well.

21. Wilbur Soot

I know he's already dead but if he's brought back to life I want a redemption arc from him back. (SPOILERS) If neither him nor Tommy come back to life then dsmp has a horrible track record with killing off their mentally ill and (tw) suicidal characters. Wilbur has done some awful things, but if he's brought back I don't think he'd be beyond saving.

22. Jack Manifold

I need to say something about Jack. He is so very very close to being in the "you're trying your best" section right now after his most recent stream. His redemption arc is so close I can taste it and if he is redeemed right I can see him joining my faves. His most recent stream was just so well acted that my heart just wants to forgive him already... until my brain remembers he tried to nuke a child. Don’t know if this is also a hot take, but I think he had more of a right to be mad at Tommy than Niki did, but I know for Niki it's more complicated than that.

23. Niki Nihachu

There was a time that I adored Niki Nihachu and a part of me still does, but she has gone a little bit off the deep end. I do understand it's a trauma response, though. cc!Niki said that her villain arc is almost over, which disappointed me a bit because we kinda barely got to see it since it was so overshadowed, but I am also relieved. I just want my wlw baker back :(

people excuse your actions more than you deserve

I am just going to pretend that this section doesn't say "love". I still like these characters a lot even though they get away with a lot of shit.

24. Technoblade

I love Technoblade too much for him to be ranked this low, but like I said this ranking is based on fitting the section descriptions, not how much I love them. Technoblade's POV is understandable but also that doesn't excuse the pain he's caused so many people. L'Manberg was more than it's a government as much as Techno is more than a weapon.

25. Philza Minecraft

Philza deserves to be in this section a little less than Technoblade because I actually agree with a lot of what Philza fans say. Tommy is not Philza's kid. Phil has a lot of trauma around killing Wilbur, yes. I just don't see how you could watch Ghostbur's Friend speech during Doomsday and think he was in the right for doing it.

i don't like you

26. JSchlatt

JSchlatt is an amazing character in many ways. The acting? Glorious. The dialogue? Spot on. With that being said, YAYY HE'S DEAD!!! I really like leaning into the abusive relationship hc with him and his cabinet. He was probably the most fun villain we've ever had, though.

I WANT THIS MOTHER FUCKER DEAD

27. DreamWasTaken

Come on, do I even have to explain?

[archetypal-archivist]

My Beloved, Penis

Fuck it. I was infected by Penis SMP by @demonboyhalo reblogging a bunch of it and the lack of consistent lore bugged me, so I somehow banged out 2000+ words of fanfic about the Penis SMP and how it got started. Lots of internet humor and classic MInecraft shenanigans in this one folks. *slaps roof* This baby can fit so much crack treated seriously, lol. This is also up on my AO3, Zazibine, if you would prefer to read it there.

_-_-_-_

It was never supposed to get so big. It was just an SMP with a couple friends of his he had met from the Hypixel discord server, where he had logged on simply to trash talk the absolute asshole who had dared to kill him last minute in bedwars, only to stumble upon said asshole- going under the name shittyfartbaby69 of all things- complaining to his girlfriend(?) Milfboss in the voice chat. Thirty minutes later of awkward hellos and the manliest of bitching at each other (with Milf chiming in every once in a while to roast them both), and PenisUnavailable had perhaps his first Minecraft friend in, like, forever.

Then Admiral_Anus had entered chat, bitching about his competitor in ABBA Mining and his bullshit bad luck and the whole process repeated. By the end of the day, Penis had three new friends, a private discord server for the four of them, and a promise to meet up with them in Hypixel next Sunday for the ultimate round of bedwars.

The game went spectacularly. Somehow, Admiral had some of the best bridging skills any of them had ever seen, and between Milfboss' terrifying Scottish screaming and pvp and Shitty with his clutch TNT skills, the three of them almost made up for Penis' awful depth perception. They still lost around forty percent of their games, but that was certainly better than Penis' own abysmal record, not helped with his habit of walking off the edge at inconvenient times.

And it was... fun. Usually bedwars was just him playing in his bedroom alone for an hour before he rage-quit and went back to survival for a bit before he died to fall damage and rage quit that too. But shittyfartbaby69 would crack dirty jokes that he'd never even heard of before, and Milfboss would roast him for looking it up on reddit and Shitty would cuss her out as he tried to prove that no, he was being original- all while Admiral would comment of them as if they were a sideshow display. Then Admiral_Anus would turn around and knock an enemy player off their island with some clever pvp and they would all hoot and holler and swear for a while before going back to their conversation, joking about forgetting the topic and starting up a running gag about something new.

And their accents, mmm. PenisUnavailable would never say it, but he really was as American as white Wonder bread and Milfboss' Scottish brogue, Admiral's smooth British snark, and Shitty's shrieking in Australian, well. Ear candy, you know? Even if he teased them mercilessly for pronouncing shit wrong, like "buhguhr". Ppffttt, it still cracked him up how Milfboss had threatened to murder him after the dictionary app on his phone had proved him right that it was actually "Bur-gur", even if Admiral kept insisting it was pronounced "bruh-girl".

Four hours and twenty-eight wins later, they had agreed to meet up the next day to play again, preferably at an hour that wasn't two am for Shitty again. (It was two am for Shitty again, although that was because they played for six that time.) Eventually, it just became a regular thing, them playing bedwars and competing at ABBA Caving- the one game Penis was unnaturally good at, much to Admiral's annoyance- to the point where they ran out of funny jokes about their competitors and the game itself and started talking personal anecdotes.

Milfboss owned a motorcycle. Admiral, entirely independently, also owned a motorcycle, as that was the only vehicle of reasonable speed and style that could actually handle the London traffic. Shitty couldn't drive at all, something about never passing his driving test. Admiral ate cheese at breakfast. Shitty liked to burn his garbage in a metal oil drum in his backyard. Milfboss posted herself singing covers of shit over on Youtube. And it wasn't just real life stuff either- their minecraft skills were also on the table for them all to collectively roast.

Admiral had never seen a single Minecraft Championship. Milfboss thought a flat cobblestone roof was entirely acceptable. Shitty's favorite block was the flint and steel. (That's not a block, sixty-niner. Shut up, is too. OoOh, real clever, 'shut up'! Uh, how about no? How about I fuckin' make you, ever think 'a that? No nono nonono, I'm on two hearts! I'm on two hearts, stop!) It made him curious, honestly. He wanted to see Milf's builds for himself, get revenge on Shitty, see if Admiral really could beat the Ender Dragon with a knockback stick like he said he could.

So he made a minecraft server. And they all joined it. (And stuck PenisUnavailable with the bill, suckaaahhh~!)

Predictably, it all went to Hell in a hand basket pretty quick.

See, it's one thing to play with nutters like his friends in a structured set up like Hypixel games, it's quite another to try and keep a semblance of order in an open world survival server like the Penis SMP. The first five minutes had been him trying to explain the rules and teleporting everyone back to spawn over and over as they tried to "escape the cops," ie, him. The next five minutes was Shitty scream-laughing "scatter!" and other John Mulany references down the mic as everyone ran off to start their houses. Penis, as he was still "god" at that moment, used admin commands to find the closest flower field biome to settle into, hoping for some- ha- peace and quiet.

Shitty, inevitably, ended up trying to settle in the fucking Nether. Like a mad lad, you know, as you do when you are apparently obsessed with all things lava. Milfboss ended up making an oak plank box of a "tree house" in a dark oak forest, while Admiral_Anus picked a nearby swamp for his starter base. Outside of that, they just kinda vibed in discord as they tried to fend off the mobs and get enough resources to try and build up houses that were a bit more than cobblestone towers and wood boxes- er, mostly. Milf kinda just fucked off to go mining, found a skeleton spawner by chance, and made a set of iron gear to stand in the dungeon room with to just chill and kill mobs for a while. She ended up with something like 45 levels and burned her only diamond on an enchanting table so she could buff the Hell out of her iron weapons and armor.

Penis, rather typically, he though to himself, put together a basic sheep farm and started work on a cute little cobblestone cave base. He managed to get a whole twenty by twenty block room done and fully furnished before he noticed the chat full of Shitty's death messages and went to go investigate. After nearly dying in lava twice, he managed to find Shitty's pile of items floating on a basalt pillar about a hundred blocks out from his... base?

It was a soccer ball. Shitty's base was a perfect fucking spherical soccer ball made up of quartz blocks and basalt. Just. What. The Fuck??? Then out popped shittyfartbaby69 and it was PenisUnavailable's turn to misjudge a jump and plummet right into lava. Fifteen minutes and much shrieking later about losing his diamond pick, and it turns out that Shitty didn't really care about his lost items, as he really only had four gold picks, a stack of dark oak, two furnaces, a bucket, and thirteen cooked mutton to his name. Not even a bed, the fucker. He just ran back to his portal from spawn every time he just burned to death, taking the chance to gather resources on the way back each time.

And no, he wasn't following a tutorial for his "football" base. Jerk. (Although Penis did have to admire his determination...)

The day ended on Milfboss, Shitty, and Penis reconvening back at spawn to try and hunt down Admiral_Anus, who they found later having built a thirty block tall castle of all things. Out of cobble stone and the windows weren't quite even, but still, it was pretty impressive. And of course, when presented with a castle, what can what do but siege it? So they lay siege to the castle and Milfboss curb-stomped Admiral in pvp and laid claim to the throne, crowning herself queen before summarily throwing the rest of them out. It was a good day.

And the day after was a good day. They played dodge ball crossed with hide and seek in forest around Penis' house with arrows supplied by Milfboss. And the day after that, too, where they had a building competition using nothing but cobble stone, specifically to spite Milfboss, who had kicked all of their asses the day before. In fact, three wonderful weeks passed of doing normal Minecraft shit and being friends passed by, and every bit of it was great fun.

And then came the fucking role play.

PenisUnavailable would have liked to preface that with he only participated under duress, but really, Milfboss had been queen for too long and nobody wanted to risk TNT cannoning any of Shitty's nice builds, so. Well, the castle was better than his drafty cave, alright? It was cold and wet and didn't have a proper door because aesthetic (and because it usually took him several tries to work an iron pressure plate door), so there were far too many mobs wandering in at night and spawn camping him. He and Shitty had almost the same number of deaths and Shitty lived in the fucking Nether.

So yeah. Castle time, baby! Daddy needs a new home! And Admiral obviously wasn't happy living out of Milf's awful tree house hot box where they all did drugs together on day fifteen and it still smelled of burnt wheat seeds, aka "weed." It was only obvious that they teamed up to try and take back the castle.

The battle itself didn't exactly go great, but it wasn't exactly horrible either. A lot of shouting shit at each other for fifteen minutes, the majority of which he wouldn't remember until it was too late- something about server unity?- only to find out that it wasn't two on one girl boss, it was two on a girl boss and her "baked out of his mind" henchman, also known as Shitty in a squirrel furry skin.

The ears man. Those stupid (cute) ears.

And then they were running for their lives because Milf had somehow gotten her hands on a flame bow with infinity enchants.

It all culminated in a dramatic stand-off in front of Shitty's Nether Soccer ball, Milf on one side, diamond axe in hand, not a bit of armor on because of an unfortunate run in with lava, Penis and Admiral on the other, picks in hand, threatening to tear down shittyfartbaby69's base. Shitty wasn't online just then to comment, but they could all hear him click-clacking away on his keyboard so he obviously hadn't gone to sleep just yet like he said he had. At an impasse, and unable to justify letting her teammate's home be used as collateral, Milfboss stood down and gave up her "crown," an enchanted golden Prot IV helmet she had gotten off a skeleton from her spawner.

Then the great betrayal, the beginning of the end. Shitty came back online. 96-Cam joined the game, not that they noticed in the chaos. Admiral-Anus cackled wildly and PMed Milfboss the message that Shitty had sent him, giving Team Gay Sex permission to tear down his base in the name of winning the war if it came down to it- making Milf's sacrifice worthless in the end. Penis gave another dramatic speech, circling around Shitty, who was acting weirdly apologetic to Milf about betraying her and still wearing that fucking squirrel furry skin.

"You see Milf, there's one thing more powerful than a girl boss, and when it comes down to wars between kingdoms, there's something you need to remember!" Penis got out his golden ax, helpfully labeled 'Piss Off'.  "And that's a dilf with something to lose!" An enderpearl in his off hand and he teleported behind Milf, catching on fire from the lava but still landing the last hit needed to finish her off. She puffed into a cloud of EXP, swearing up a storm, and then Admiral and Penis turned their gaze to the cheering Shitty.

"AAAAAYYY, LET'S GO DADDY!" the squirrel man screeched, wild laughter shorting out the discord voice chat, making him go quiet in patches when the volume overloaded the client. Behind him, Admiral quietly started building a chair out of birch fence posts and slabs.

"Not so fast, shit-ty-fart-baaaaa-byyyyy~, this isn't quite over yet!" Penis fucking chirped, barely holding back his laughter. "You're still a fucking traitor and we can't have you backstabbing us too. Get in the chair for Daddy, okay baby?"

Admiral finished the chair just in time for Shitty to turn around and see the completed monstrosity, shrieking dying off immediately. "Oh screw you, that's just mean. The Hell man? That's not a chair, that's illegal. If you want an electric chair or some shit, just ask. That's just sad." Mentally shrugging, Admiral lit up his work with a flint and steel while Penis pillared up above where Shitty was building an electric chair out of iron bars and trap doors. Admiral nudged Shitty into the chair, Penis dumped a bucket of lava over the edge of the pillar so it flowed over him, and Shitty started giving a soliloquy about how betrayal and how his love for his "Daddy" still "burned strong".

Like his dick. Apparently.

By the time the lava finally hit the floor and burned Shitty to death, Penis was crying with laughter, shrieking down the mike and banging on the desk hard enough to make him forget that his was still on the mouse, making him mine the block under him with the bucket and sending him hurtling to his fiery death too.

It was a good day... almost.

Because, as it turned out, shittyfartbaby69 was actually a tiktokker of some renown and his cam account had record everything. And he had uploaded the bit to tiktok, as you do, where it went viral, where it wasn't supposed to. And Milfboss, who had recently been uploading covers of herself singing old classic Minecraft songs, had attracted the Minecraft fandom kids to her twitter, where she had gone to post her rage about the events of her dethroning and Shitty's execution.

Penis SMP had gotten on. Fucking. Trending. And now everyone was demanding the full clip, their names, their Twitch streamer handles, their characters' backstories.

The masses wanted lore.

Penis watched in disbelief, head in his hands and mouth agape as sugar crash played over a clip of him killing Milf on loop.

They were making memes.

...Oh god. They were screwed.

[hermits-that-craft]

Marionette Roulette - Chapter 2

TW- Mentions of suicide, implied child abuse

ao3 link in the first reblog

Sam hovers awkwardly at the door to Techno and Phil’s house, unsure as to if he should go in or not. He needs to let them know what has happened, and he needs the information that Phil could potentially have, but this isn’t his news to break.

Except he’s the only one who cares enough to tell the three people who live so far away.

“Are you going to say something, or just stand there?” Ranboo asks, his head tilted in confusion. “You doing alright Sam?”

“I need to tell you guys something. Are Techno and Phil home?” Sam asks, shaking himself out of his stupor.

“Come in.” Techno invites him in from behind Ranboo, a look on his face telling Sam that it’s going to be hard to convince him that he doesn’t know what happened.

Sam steps into the cottage, warm air washing over him like sea foam. It clings to his fur, and Sam finds himself hissing in content. Phil and Techno exchange worried looks, but Ranboo just smiles, and mumbles something to the pair.

“You said you had something to tell us?” Phil says, breaking the silence.

“You might want to sit down for this.” Sam says, taking a deep breath in. Phil, Techno and Ranboo sit around the kitchen table, Ranboo nervously looking around. Phil and Techno exchange a glance, and Techno rolls his eyes.

“Bit over dramatic, I’m sure the news isn’t that huge.” Techno says with a smirk.

“Tubbo was killed in a battle against Dream two days ago.” Sam says, his voice wavering. “Tommy is currently missing in action, presumed dead. I’m so sorry.”

The trio just stare at him, his words washing over them. Ranboo is the first to understand what was said, burying his face into his hands and sobbing quietly. Phil is the next to realise, horror and grief mixing in his eyes as he wails. A father who possibly outlived two of his sons, the only survivor sitting next to him. Techno is the last to realise, and anger overtakes grief in his eyes. Techno stands, pushing his chair over in his rush. Techno stalks over to Sam, pushing him against the wall as though that could change the past.

“You’re sure! You’re sure that Tubbo is dead.” It’s not a question but a demand.

“I’ve seen the body.” Sam says, tears dripping down his face. “Axe to the chest. He couldn’t survive that one.”

“And Tommy. He’s just missing, not dead, correct?”

“Techno, it’s Tommy .” Sam says. “Do you really believe that he would survive Tubbo’s death? After everything he gave up for Tubbo?”

Phil wails once more, keening in lament for his son. Ranboo starts to shake, as though he wants to teleport away but simply can’t . Techno lets Sam go, collapsing to the floor. It’s as though he can’t process it, as though he can’t do anything but stare at the ground. It must be hard - losing both of your siblings within a year.

“I need to ask a few questions, but if you don’t feel up to answering them then I can leave.” Sam says gently.

“Go on.” Ranboo says for the two men, not waiting to see their reactions.

“Tubbo’s family.” Sam says softly. “Someone needs to tell them that he’s died. Do you know who I can contact?”

“Captainsparklez, on Mianite.” Phil says, staring at the ground. “I- He- I-”

“Thank you.” Sam says, nodding his head at the man. “I’ll let him know.”

“When is the funeral?” Techno asks, hugging himself while he sits on the floor.

“Next week.” Sam says. “We have to-” He takes a deep breath in. “There’s no coffins Tubbo’s size, and everyone would prefer to bury Tommy with him. They were best friends, after all.”

“But there’s a chance Tommy’s alive.” Ranboo says without conviction. He’d seen Tommy in exile, he was the only person in the house who visited the teen more than once. Ranboo clearly knew about Tommy’s spiraling mental health - something that Sam only learnt about after the bombing of L’Manburg, in a quiet exchange between Tommy and Tubbo that Sam was never supposed to hear - and Ranboo clearly knew that there wasn’t any way that Tommy survived Tubbo’s death.

If the teen fell to his own hand or his enemy’s, it didn’t matter. Tommy and Tubbo could not be separated.

Tubbo barely lived when Tommy was in exile - both times. Sam had seen the teen roaming Manburg, looking as though he was barely surviving without his friend. It appeared better in the second exile - perhaps Tubbo was putting on a brave face, or maybe he was just used to it - but it was clear that he still missed the teen.

And, deep down, Sam knows that Tommy felt the exiles worse than Tubbo. After all - Tubbo had a support system. Tommy had an insane man, one who blew up his home, the other who blew up his home and killed his best friend.

Tommy was always handed the short end of the stick, and always punished for acting out because of it. It’s upsetting just how little the university seems to have cared about the teen, until after he died. No one cared for him until after he died.

“Thank you.” Sam says, pulling himself out of his anger. “I’ll message you the dates for the funerals.”

“Why didn’t you just message us the news?” Phil asks, his voice hollow.

“Because hearing that your children died is news that you should hear from someone’s mouth. Not through a screen.” Sam responds despondently. He turns, walking out of the room. How could Philza ask him that? How could he care so little for Tommy and Tubbo? Was it because Sam was the one who told him, or was it because he didn’t care for the teens.

“Tubbo wasn’t our brother.” Sam hears Techno mumble. “And both were problems who tore the family apart.”

Red flashes in Sam’s eyes, and Ranboo wails at those words. One should not speak ill of the dead. Sam lets the door slam behind him, a loud bang! that condemns the two adults in the house to a damnation that Sam can bring to their doorsteps. Dream may have taken away his right to be the warden, but there isn’t much Sam would have to do to convince the rest of the server to throw the pair into the jail for their comments.

Sam is not a vengeful man, but those children didn’t deserve death and pain. Tommy didn’t deserve to be put with that family. Tubbo didn’t deserve to be spoken about with such contempt.

Sam steps out into the snow storm, walking away from the cottage warmed by false ideals of family. Tubbo is dead, and the likelihood of Tommy having survived is so close to nothing it shouldn’t be counted as an option.

But Sam has worked under worse conditions. He’ll find Tommy - either his body, his ghost or his person. Maybe then he can help the teen.

Show him what a family looks like.

----

Niki looks out of the window of her and Puffy’s home, humming under her breath. Tubbo, dead?

Why would Dream kill Tubbo, when Tommy was far worse - a warmonger? It doesn’t make sense to Niki, though she supposes that Dream may have only returned Tubbo’s body to the main area of the server because Tommy isn’t worth a grave. He can rot where he lies, for all Niki cares.

Is that true though?

Guilt claws at her heart, as though she was the one who killed the teens. She never wanted Tubbo dead - Tommy was the only one that she and Jack wanted to kill. Why can’t she stomach the two teens' deaths? Why does guilt drown her as though she threw the axe?

Tubbo died saving Tommy, Dream had said. Perhaps that's why she feels as though she threw the axe. Tubbo had jumped in front of the axe to save Tommy from certain death, dying in the process.

Would he have done the same, if it were Niki and Jack throwing the axe?

---

Ghostbur sits in the L’Manhole, hiding under an undercroft as rain buckets down. He sticks his hands into the rain, watching as they run like watercolours in the rain. He wants to feel pain. He longs for it to hurt, for the pain to be unbearable and for it to burn like the noise it makes. It doesn’t. It doesn’t feel like anything. His skin fizzes and his hands run like paint down a drain, but he doesn’t feel any pain.

Tubbo is dead. Tommy could be dead.

“Get your hands out of the rain, loverboy.” Glatt says, making Ghostbur jump. “Tubbo is with us down there, but he’s happy to stay and rest for a while. He says he’ll be back for his funeral.”

“And Tommy?” Ghostbur isn’t able to return to the Aether, not since he made the deal with Glatt to watch the overworld for the other ghost. He could return, of course, no deal stops the inevitable, and maintaining a form is hard , but he doesn’t want to.

Alivebur is so loud there.

“He isn’t there, Wilbur.” Schlatt says, his voice more full. Without an echo. “Your little brother is alive. Tubbo says Dream killed him so that he could break Tommy.”

“No.” Ghostbur pleads with the rain, with his friend. “ No, not Toms. Not my baby brother.”

“I’m sorry, Wil.” Glatt says, pulling the tall ghost into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“He’s just a kid. He’s just a kid. ” Ghostbur’s eyes glow bright, angry, and Glatt looks at him with growing realisation.

“This is not a world to make into a disaster, Ghostbur.” Glatt warns. “There is more than just us here.”

“We deserve the pain.”

“Let’s go somewhere warm.” Glatt says, the bedrock glowing golden as Glatt opens a portal to the Aether.

Thats one good thing about the L’Manhole. They don’t need to beg Dream to make a bedrock portal for them anymore. They have access to enough bedrock here to keep a portal open constantly.

[igirisuhito]

Hi! I’m bidoofgodofdestruction. I want to say that I’m so sorry for having spread false rumors about your fic without reading it. That was wrong of me and stupidly transphobic. You don’t have to forgive me, or even respond to this, but I’m sorry to you for making accusations. Have a good day.

Hi Bidoof. First of all, I'd like to thank you for the opportunity to freely talk about some issues near and dear to my heart. I want to expand on how problematic these kinds of actions are. Why am I making an example of you in particular? Well, to put it simply; you annoy me. 

(Just so you know: Bidoof's “unpleasant run-in” with me was me telling her that she shouldn't judge writers for what they write. You can see my exact post linked here) Is there anything wrong with venting on your blog about a fic you weren’t fond of? No, not really. Begging people to send you asks to feel better? Annoying, but, whatever. Putting said vents in the fucking TAGS? Yeah uh, don’t do that. I would have preferred it if you directly messaged me to voice your qualms on my “Tags” (no, she didn’t even read the fic!) but you can’t, because you have me blocked. Actually, I even have you blocked, hence why you had to send this anonymously. Instead you yell out into your little echo chamber to get the approval from like minded followers on how gross my “Tags” are. If said followers hadn't said anything, you wouldn't have felt any remorse. You blocked someone trying to explain to you that you cannot judge the fic by its tags alone. Shout out to Nanacka, by the way. Absolutely lovely artist. 

Judging a book by it’s cover aside, I wanna talk about why this exact kind of thing is so problematic. How looking at LGBT content with a significantly more critical eye is killing content for LGBT people. 

You guys remember Dream Daddy right? The game that people criticised so harshly, not because of the plot line or the story or the art, but because of the way it portrayed it's little gay universe? Receiving criticism over being unrealistic, or appealing to female masses, even having uncompleted work in the coding dragged out and judged. That criticism then extended to fanartists, and eventually hype died out for the game because people were afraid of making content for it. 

Who would want to make an MLM dating game after seeing a reception like THAT? Have you noticed how every other queer visual novel-esque dating game that has come out since gives you the option of a cishet relationship? And how most of them don't receive the same criticisms Dream Daddy did? 

There's also the issue with calling things "gross and fetishistic". With criticising content because it may cater to fujoshis. You see, the inherent TERF rhetoric with calling women consuming queer media "gross and undesirable" aside, some of us gay men just want that? Sometimes as a mentally ill gay man, I want to read about an unhealthy relationship between my two favorite characters. This doesn't mean I like them any less. I'm exploring something I wouldn't want to explore in my real life. These aren’t real people, this is a fantasy I can explore through fiction, experiences I can connect to.

I have healthy relationships in my personal life, and I have had many that weren’t. The ability to explore these themes in a safe place, to be able to self analyse, is a critical skill and I think something everybody should indulge in. It has helped me to learn how to identify abusive behaviour before it has grown out of control. Being able to see characters I relate to go through similar things to what I have is important to me, and in my opinion, vital to good representation. Not everyone goes through trauma gracefully.

Like, do you know how much fanfic involves gay men having sex without any prior preparation? Yes, it can lead to misconceptions, but doesn't that more point to flaws in our education system? It is not my duty to teach the underaged child reading my fanfiction, written for adults, that perhaps they should wear a condom. 

I've gone way off topic. I just, never expected this to be the fic that got me squinted at, you know? A fic about two boys with vastly different sexual experiences fumbling around each other trying to figure things out. This is severely wholesome. 

You may think you are being a good ally, defending the rights of a transgender character. Their right not to be lewded or fetishised or used as a plot device. But in doing so, you risk belittling the experiences of trans people who relate to said character. Or shit, in this case, even, the trans author who wrote said character based off their own experiences! But you wouldn't know that, right? You didn't even fucking read it. You read the content warnings and drew your own conclusions.

Which brings me back to Bidoof, and her desire to constantly dictate what she sees in fandom. She defends it by saying "oh this is my comfort ship you're ruining my comfort ship". That's ridiculous for a multitude of reasons, people are comforted by vastly different things. You are comforted by your favourite couple holding hands, I am comforted by my favourite couple tearing each other apart in a toxic relationship I am so glad I would never be a part of. We are different people with different tastes, you cannot control fandom. 

And girl, leave Red the fuck aloooone omg. Don't think we don't see your vagueposts when you put them in the fucking TAGS!! You vagued about her in a server that she was in and then were shocked when she saw it. Everytime you say these things, they get back to the person. Every single time. My friends reached out to me about this, mutuals/acquaintances reached out to me, even people I've never spoken to reached out to me. 

I've seen you vaguepost about a 14 year old in a server she shared with you. In my eyes, knowing you are an adult, that's detestable behaviour. You're a hypocrite and a bully, acting as though you're doing the right thing because people have the "wrong opinions" telling people to "act normal". Seriously you can't see for a second how blatantly horrible that sounds? 

I'm just going to say, please don't send Bidoof hate. That's not going to solve anything. My fic is fine, I will survive, and I'm grateful to have actually seen her apologise, even if I do not forgive her. I'm honestly more angry over the fact she thinks it's fine to continue to be such a bully, or that she's justified in doing so.

Sorry to have made you "ill" with my wholesome trans porn. Don't worry, you won't have to see any of my "nasty" stuff in the tags from now on. 

[cupcakemolotov]

Scatter the Die: Part 2

Okay, this was supposed to be part of @lalainajanes birthday present, and in true birthday form, exploded. And since I cannot imagine giving a birthday present without some kind of smutty bits, this is going to have to have more added onto it later. But my brain has been stubborn and I am hoping that getting something posted will help me get something else done!

You can read it here at A03 (including Part 1) if you prefer!

Warnings: death, monsters, discussion of murders, dismemberment and so on. 

Caroline shifted her weight uncomfortably, lip caught tightly between her teeth as she bit back a hiss, stubbornly rotating her ankle. Stiff and sore, today was her first full week without cast or crutches, and she refused to spend one more minute than necessary desk bound. The two weeks she'd been forced to take it slow had seriously rankled. Her partner's running commentary about pre-apocalypse medicine had not improved her temper. Witches’ spells could do a lot, but broken bones still needed time to heal. 

There was no one here yet to see her wince through the PT exercises anyway. Taking a slow breath as she finished the motion, Caroline glared at the paper files that had recently become her life. Not that she’d been given much of a choice.

If you’re stuck on a desk, Detective Forbes, we might as well make use of you. Salvatore did a number on the servers. Find me what he wanted to hide.

She supposed it at least had given her something to do as she’d never sat well for long periods of time, and digging through the files of old ghosts hadn’t improved her mood. Lifting her eyes, she gazed across the silent desks, frowning as her eyes lingered where she'd nearly died. She’d made a point to walk over it every day since her return, refusing to let the nightmares that left her sweat-soaked and shivering gain root here. 

They'd replaced sections of the concrete floor, patches that hadn't quite darkened to match the rest. They were a bitter reminder of the blood of the cops who had died under Tyler’s teeth, and his escape along with the fae-witch he’d brought in under the pretense of an arrest still burned a hole in her gut. It was a poor consolation that the bullet she’d put in Tyler would have done almost as much damage as what the collapsed wall had done to her leg. 

Of the injured survivors, she'd been the luckiest. A mangled ankle was at least fixable. Alaric had lost a hand to the fae, and not even magic had been able to reattach it. Matt was still in a coma, his condition unknown. There were a dozen others simply outright killed. 

Brushing a hand down her face, she rubbed her tired eyes. It would be a long time before the precinct forgot the horror of being betrayed by their own. A longer time still, before she stopped re-playing the scene in her head and wishing her bullet had been a half of an inch further to the left.

Noisy, and deliberately loud whistling broke into her thoughts and she rolled her eyes as her partner came around the corner. Caroline shook her head as she took in her partner of four year’s messy hair and stubble. Clearly he hadn’t slept yet.  “You're late.”

Detective Enzo St. John snorted and dropped a bag onto his desk before shuffling the paper cups in his hands to offer her one. “Someone is picky about her donuts. I'll never stop being surprised at the line at this time of night. It’s three am. People should be sleeping, not trying to clog their arteries.”

Caroline accepted the coffee and made grabby hands at the paper bag. In the seven decades since the barrier had gone up, humanity had clawed its way out its primitive post-apocalyptic society. They'd restored the US Government, running water. Electricity. Phones. 

Donuts were her personal favorite. 

She scowled when Enzo reached into the bag produced something that was decisively not a donut. “Were they out of the good stuff?”

“I've got two glazed in the bag for you, Gorgeous, but you need to eat something that isn't puffed sugar,” he drawled as he wiggled the napkin in her direction. “I don’t want to have to explain to that witch-friend of yours why you keeled over on my watch.”

Sighing heavily, Caroline accepted the sausage roll. Gia would have many, many words to say to her if she fainted on the job. “This better have cheese.”

Enzo rolled his eyes, pulling out a jelly filled donut and biting into it, mumbling through his mouthful. “As if I dared give you subpar food. Well, not twice, at least.”

Glaring at him for his lack of manners, she polished off the snack in quick bites. Her partner was a good man, someone who’d been her friend before they’d gotten thrown together. He’d migrated from Britain at some point, and stubbornly maintained that crisp accent, and was mostly human. The non-human part of him was classified as void.

It was his void magic that made a lot of cops nervous, but Caroline hadn’t minded his oddity, fully aware that magic always came with a price. For her partner, when he absorbed magic, his body converted that magic into harmless energy, but that energy had to go somewhere. Most people would’ve considered being somewhat immortal a gift, but Caroline had seen pictures of the wife he had buried. 

Still, having a partner who could eat magic was extremely helpful when magic fireballs started getting tossed about. The number of times Enzo had saved both their asses with his magic had risen exponentially over the past twenty-four months. She knew that he stilled raged that he hadn’t been on sight when Tyler had sprung his trap, that he and others believed that things would have gone differently if he had been here. 

“How's the eye-bleeding going?” 

Caroline shrugged and dusted her hands, studying her friend. “It's all organized and set to be added back into the database.”

Enzo threw his feet onto his desk and grinned, tossing her the paper bag which she caught with a scowl. “Find anything interesting?”

She grimaced and dug out her first slightly squashed donut. “Only in regards to what is missing. It's like the files were scrubbed long before I got my hands on them.”

Which made sense in a way. Mason had been their commander for six decades, for nearly as long as they’d had a precinct to work from post-apocalypse. He’d likely been keeping an eye on the written reports as long as they’d been making them.

It was why Caroline had always been so very careful with what she put into writing. Mason had been someone she’d trusted to do his job, and that trust sat in a bitter knot in her chest, but that trust had had limits. There were some things she’d only ever trusted Enzo with and after everything that had happened, that wasn’t likely to change.

“We knew Mason was most likely a figurehead for the group,” Enzo said tightly, jaw working harshly as he mentioned their previous Commander. “Any chance you can figure out what's missing? Computers might not work as well as they used too, but usually stuff isn’t really gone. Or so I’m told.”

She snorted at the wry note in his voice. Computers didn’t always work right around Enzo and he was lucky she didn’t mind doing the bulk of their reporting. She was pretty sure it was why he’d been shuffled to her in the first place.

“Maybe,” Caroline said. “Most of the detectives originally assigned to the cases are dead, but one or two did survive into retirement. I can call in a favor, meet them to see what they remember, but I'm not sure we’ll get much. Whatever Mason was hiding, he was thorough.”

Enzo leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as the springs groaned. “The new Commander won't like that.”

Caroline grimaced. 

Interim Commander Katerina Petrova had shown up two days after Mason Lockwood had disappeared. Caroline had still been in the hospital recovering, but Enzo had done a dramatic retelling of how she'd strode in on her Louboutin heels and turned the entire precinct on its ear. Most people grudgingly agreed she'd been mostly fair, but some of the older detectives were considering more than grumbling. 

It certainly hadn’t helped Commander Petrova’s popularity that she was zero percent human. Most cops could accept a certain amount of weirdness, Enzo and then a few others who were witch born or shapeshifter were eyed suspiciously, but mostly ignored. And while Changelings were considered less dangerous than some of the other fae species who’d been cut off when they'd raised the barrier, nothing about them was human. 

Their new Commander was gorgeous, demanding, and dangerous. She wasn’t the sort who Caroline would have pegged as a cop, much less one that played at a local level. Magic users with any power preferred state and federal politics, and they played viciously. The Feds enjoyed little more than stepping in and taking over from the locals as soon as there was a whiff of anything interesting. 

Cops, in turn, generally distrusted anything with true power. They saw too much from the creatures that slipped through the cracks, and New Orleans’ barrier was notoriously thin. It made the city a hotbed for any number of political maneuvering, and too many good cops died in the crosshairs of some FBI agents' personal agenda. Magic users would bleed each other dry if given the opportunity, and even dead, Fae magic lingered. 

Having an FBI Bureau located in New Orleans meant keeping cases local and off the radar of coven or Fae families difficult. Once an agency got involved, the answers they could provide to a family were limited to the most political of answers, if they could even give them that much. Missing persons cases were rarely solved even if they had recovered bodies, and some murders were pushed under the rug entirely. 

Caroline hated it. 

Before his betrayal, Commander Lockwood had given the impression that he'd fought for his people. He’d gone toe to toe with the feds, had occasionally won. Werewolf or not, he'd been trusted. But Mason had used his people's acceptance of his werewolf nature to betray them, and it was still a bitter taste in the department's collective mouths. 

It would be for years.

Now the Feds were watching them closely and they'd put a changeling in the precinct. Tongues were wagging, and Caroline wasn't certain who to trust. 

“I’ve got a buddy or two,” Enzo interrupted her thoughts, words slow. His chin dipped so that his eyes met hers, gaze serious. “A couple of ties to some of the alphabet agencies.”

“Do you?” Caroline murmured, intrigued. It didn’t surprise her. Enzo knew a lot of people. “What sort of gossip has been going around?”

“You aren't going to like it,” he warned. 

Caroline paused. “It doesn’t have to do with any of our past cases, does it?”

Enzo eyes darkened as he absorbed her words and his head moved in a barely perceptible no. The fist around her lungs loosened, and she bit into her donut and motioned for him to continue. His expression turned rueful, and she braced herself.

“Rumor has it our new Captain has some fascinating ties to a certain Mikaelson.”

Caroline’s eyes closed in silent aggravation.  

When she'd been a fresh faced street cop, determined to work her way up the ranks to detective, she'd never have imagined it wasn't magic that was going to cause her the most aggravation, but the politics. She’d learned how complicated they could be at her mother’s murder, had watched it destroy good men who promised to find her answers. But she’d never thought herself incapable of traversing them. What had been important was bringing closure she’d been denied to families. But the better she became at her job, the more she found herself staring at insurmountable roadblocks. 

And of those cases, Special Agent Klaus Mikaelson was a particular pain in her ass. 

She'd met him nearly a half a decade earlier during a case involving a kelpie that had tried to kill her. The Irish water horse had taken on a humanoid form and drowned her victims on land, and New Orleans had been ideal hunting grounds for her. She might have even escaped notice for a few more years but her preferred meal had been male cops. 

Caroline had been one of the detectives hunting the cop killer, but it’d been Mikaelson she'd butted heads against repeatedly. Klaus had thought she was unnecessarily reckless and Caroline had been frustrated by his unwillingness to share information. The fact that he came from a family with deep pockets and even better connections had left her teeth grinding, particularly since she'd known he was keeping things close to his chest. 

To make it worse, she’d found herself grudgingly admiring the fact that he'd never backed down from the bite of her temper. She'd told herself repeatedly during those first few months that the urge to bite his smirking mouth, to see how well he'd bluster with her tongue against his was the result of her dry spell. The chemistry between them had been explosive, and if he hadn't been a Fed intruding on her territory, she might have been intrigued enough to let him charm her.

But later, he’d shown her the truth of himself and she hadn’t really known what to think. She still didn’t but whatever was between them it wasn’t fear. Fear was a cold sweat and tight lungs in the middle of the night, the ice of possibilities. Klaus burned, and the heat between them threatened to send them both up in flames if she gave him even an inch. 

“How fascinating?” Caroline said, voice taut with frustration. “Is she in his pocket?”

Enzo pursed his lips, gaze flicking across the mostly empty bullpen and he pushed his chair closer. “That's a question I don't have an answer too.”

“God dammit.”

He nodded in agreement, gaze careful as he phrased his next question. “Have you found it curious that the FBI is so interested in you? Because I have. No offense, but smart and resourceful aren't necessarily what they are looking for. And they rarely try to recruit full humans.”

Caroline had no answers for him. Whatever Klaus thought he’d seen in her, he had offered no explanation. If it hadn’t been for the way he kept popping up in her life, in her cases, she’d have written it off as a whim. The man was mercurial enough for it but he was also unyielding when it fit his fancy. But there was no good way to explain to her partner the way Klaus watched her when it was just the two of them.  “Who knows what goes on with the Feds?”

Enzo sighed. “I don't think it's much of a secret that the veil between worlds is getting thinner each year; that we're looking at a catastrophic break here in New Orleans. Whatever prisons the supernatural made, whatever it is that they’ve tried to vanish beyond our world, we both know they are starting to slip back through in higher and higher numbers.”

She nodded tightly, thinking of the cold iron knife she always wore, the cuffs that set heavy against her hip. Standard police ammo included silver bullets and her medkit had fresh sage and blessed salt. “I thought finding a way to close those weak points is a priority.”

“Sure, that's what our departmental memos are going to keep spouting, but you don't exactly see the witches succeeding at it,” Enzo drawled, brow arching as the truth of their jobs sat in his eyes. “Shit is going to go down eventually, and humanity is going to be the collateral damage. We’ve already seen it.”

Caroline grimaced. She'd seen the trend, over the years. Humanity made the perfect buffet for a lot of the nightmares behind the veil, and as a species, humans reproduce quickly, unlike many of the supernaturally gifted. Most Fae and the other not-humans thought of humanity as nothing more than an easily replaced buffet. 

Then there had been Silas.

Enzo nodded, voice low. “So we’ve got a situation brewing in New Orleans. The Bayou is a perfect place for things that go bump in the night to find a hiding place while they regain their power. And even keeping both eyes on a situation, we don’t always know about a problem until it goes boom.”

More and more bodies dumped into the bayou were never recovered. Gator hunters were home well before dark, and will o'wisps haunted the water. The kelpie that had attacked cops was the first of three that had been killed in five years. There were rumors of sirens in the Mississippi and gremlins lurked in the shadows of the most brightly lit alleys. 

New Orleans was a powder keg.

“Yeah,” she said tightly, mouth thinning. “We have seen it. We’ve also reported it to all the right channels.”

And until Tyler had killed twenty percent of the cops in her department, until his fae-witch had sunk her hands into the chest of good men and turned them feral, no one had listened. 

“Did I ever tell you that I requested a transfer here?”

Caroline blinked, shook her head. “No. Why on earth would you?”

“Voids aren’t born, Caroline. We’re made.” His mouth twisted in an old memory, eyes dark. “The process is terrible. If anyone survives. After my wife died… well. This city has very established ancestral magic, and a bureau ready to stick its nose into the smallest hint of trouble. Not to mention that the federal government cannot afford to show weakness when it's becoming clearer and clearer every year that humanity is no longer the apex predator; and those that are just happen to wear our skins, sometimes. New Orleans should appear to be a lot safer than it manages.”

Caroline winced, tried not to think about how literal that was about faces. She’d killed a doppelganger three years ago who had worn her face and sometimes that case played a part in her nightmares. “That doesn’t explain why you wanted to be here?”

“I wanted to know why the strength of humanity and the power of witches was failing,” he said bluntly. “Why I was tortured and suffered and lost years with my family if we were only going to fail in the end.”

“Did you find your answer?”

He shook his head. “The veil falling might be inevitable. But I know why we’ve held it so long. Being here, having you as a partner, it’s reminded me that not all of humanity is bad.”

She wadded up the donut bag, tossed it as his face. He ducked with a frown and Caroline smiled. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“So what does all this have to do with the Commander?”

“She’s tied to the State AG, not the local prosecutors. From what I've been able to glean, we’re not the first precinct she's been brought in to clean up. She was in Ireland five years ago, New York before that. She did a short stint in Chicago, but didn't stay long. What I can't find is where she goes once she leaves.”

Caroline licked her lips, pondering those words. “Wait… the new AG? I think I saw something about a replacement when I was in the hospital. It was Elijah something, right?”

“Full name is Elijah Mikaelson.”

“Elijah Mikaelson? Please tell me he’s not…”

“Related to the Very Special Pain in your ass?” Enzo interrupted with a wry grin. “Oldest living brother. There is also a younger sister and brother, both witches. You'll be interested to know she’s recently relocated into the area. And the younger brother has moved stateside.”

Caroline ran a hand down her face. “How do you know all this?”

“Been around awhile,” Enzo said. “Got a few friends, still willing to give me a tip or two. But the Mikaelson horde isn't the only family making a move into the area. There's been an uptick in the locals complaining about being priced out of good apartments and the housing market has taken a surprising turn for a place full of monsters.”

“A State AG,” Caroline said slowly, eyes narrowing, ignoring his grumble about housing. “A Special Agent with the FBI who has enough leeway to fly into the city as he wishes, and witches. What are the Mikaelsons looking for?”

He shrugged, something almost sympathetic behind his eyes. “Good question. You might get a chance to ask him sooner than you think.”

She eyed him warily. “What's that supposed to mean? I'm not exactly on regular speaking terms with any of them.”

Not that it did much good. The first hint of something powerful in her case and Klaus turned up, butting his perfect nose where he wasn’t wanted. She cursed him for it, often. If she’d learned who was tipping him off, they would have had words.

“Yeah,” Enzo drew out slowly, inching his chair back. “Did anyone mention he showed up at the hospital during your surgeries?”

She froze. “What?”

“Hmm,” Enzo held up his hands in a placating manner, still moving slowly backwards. “Brought in his sister, the witch. Rebekah. Interesting girl, very prickly.”

Caroline blinked at the edge of amusement in his voice, that faintest hint of interest. “Wait, did you flirt with her?”

“Regretfully, I didn’t have a chance. Agent Mikaelson was pretty determined to get her into your theatre to make sure that whatever magical damage was done could be corrected.”

Her jaw dropped, lips parting as she gaped. “No one thought to mention this?”

“Yeah, killing the messenger? That's something most people are pretty sure you'd attempt. I'm telling you now,” Enzo said with a shrug. “Besides, that's not really the fun part.”

Her stomach dropped at the word fun. “What does that mean?”

“Your Very Special Agent has relocated. Rumor has it he's now Supervisory Special Agent, and New Orleans is considered his territory.”

“Goddammit.”

Enzo nodded his agreement. “So the real question for all of this is now pretty much isn’t if there is going to be a second apocalypse, Forbes, but when. And are these folks here to stop it or to capitalize on it?”

Caroline dug out her second donut with an air of someone on the executioner's block. Klaus had made New Orleans his home. He was in her city and she’d no doubt he’d turn the FBI Office into his personal fiefdom. She hadn’t forgotten that show of power from him, the truth about himself he’d shown her as she’d sat in the ambulance, half drowned by a kelpie. 

“I guess we’ll have to find that out, won't we?”

“You up for that?”

She sighed. “I don't think I've much of a choice.”

Enzo echoed her expression, mouth twisting. “Good luck, then. If you need me to distract his sister, just let me know.”

She glowered until Enzo spun around at his desk, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

-

When Caroline had learned a Bennett witch had moved to New Orleans, she very deliberately went out of her way to avoid her. She’d potentially had time during her PTO to arrange a meeting with her old friend, but hadn’t. Bonnie Bennett was an old ghost, if no longer a familiar one. But while Bon was no longer part of her nightmares, the things she represented still lingered like a bad taste in her mouth. 

Liz Forbes had never liked witches. Caroline couldn’t remember if she’d had an opinion before her mother’s murder, but after, the sly smiles and flashy spells from ‘expert consultants’ had sat like lead in her chest. Something about the ease of finding her mom’s killer, the neat little bow tying up all loose ends had always seemed wrong. 

Years later, she’d been proven right. 

But as a grieving teenager, her last real memories of Bonnie had been wrapped up in that grief and a sense of abandonment. She remembered Grams quiet disapproval of the witches invading Mystic Falls, and she’d kept Bonnie confined to the house until the investigation was all over. Caroline had known that hadn’t been Bonnie’s fault, but it had still hurt. Her life had been so violently turned on its head, and she’d wanted her closest friend. In the end, when Caroline walked away from Mystic Falls, she'd gladly left those ties behind. 

Bonnie moving to New Orleans had been a quiet reminder that while she’d solved her mother’s murder, leaving her past completely behind was an impossibility. It had also been another warning that whatever was going on with the barrier, it was getting serious. Caroline might have left Mystic Falls behind, but she’d kept a distant eye on its on-goings. 

And Bonnie was a power. 

But finding her childhood friend ankle deep in mud, frowning over the corpse of a rotting body in the swamp wasn’t how she’d imagined what was probably an inevitable reunion. The tip about a dead woman in the swamp had come through dispatch, and Caroline had called in her response as she’d driven out to secure the scene. 

If she was lucky, the worse she’d seen would have been gator marks. If it was worse, having her partner on hand would be the wisest course of action. She had no real desire to be cursed or eaten. The swamps were dangerous and she had a healthy sense of caution when it came to finding what was potentially a feeding ground. 

But all thoughts of containment had disappeared when she realized she’d been beaten to the body, and by who. The visible surprise when Bonnie had watched her get out of the car had echoed her own. The witch’s dark eyes were hidden by a pair of neat, designer shades that were in such contrast to her clothing that Caroline wondered if she had borrowed them.

“Caroline,” Bonnie started and then stopped, flipping her glasses on top of her head instead. Her hair was twisted away from her face, the elegant bones of her cheekbones surprisingly delicate for the force of the personality behind her eyes. “Or is it Detective Forbes?”

Caroline let her lips curl. “It’s Detective.”

A hint of what might have been sadness briefly tightened her mouth, but then it was gone. Giving a short nod, Bonnie’s eyes lowered back to the corpse. “I thought I was the first one to the body.”

As far as Caroline knew, Bonnie was correct. Dispatch had said the call had been from a gator hunter, and they were too smart to linger where a dead body had washed up. Very few things ever made it to a shoreline. This body was situated about five feet from solid ground, a strange mudflat having made an appearance around it. “News spreads quick, I suppose.”

Those dark eyes studied her, and the right side of her mouth tugged upwards. “I’d heard that about you.”

Caroline arched a brow as she considered the mud between them. It was likely that Bonnie would be fine, and while the mud was a problem, something else about the scene itched at her. Grabbing a camera, she checked her side piece and knife before moving to join Bonnie. Sighing heavily because she liked her boots, she moved carefully down the sharp drop of the bank where the swamp should have pushed up against the shoreline. It was almost as if this area had been drained of water, leaving nothing behind but the thick, sludge-like carpet of mud. It didn’t smell, but there was a disturbing lack of debris and the only visible movement was from Bonnie. 

“Be careful, the mud is deeper than it should be,” Bonnie cautioned as Caroline made her way over. “Something altered the swamp around here, and it’s not good.”

Pulling a face as her boots deeply into the muck, Caroline scowled. “I can see that. And what exactly did you hear? I didn’t think you’d been here that long.”

“Nothing bad, just that you still have a nose for trouble.” A small noise as if Bonnie was remembering something amusing. “And that you’re quite stubborn, but I already knew that.”

“I didn’t really keep up with anyone from home,” Caroline said. “I’m not sure who’d be telling tales.”

“I asked around when I got here.” Her teeth worried her lip for a moment and Bonnie shrugged. “Not that your fellow cops talked much. I barely managed to find out that you were hurt, and that came from different sources entirely.”

Caroline carefully came to stop a foot from the body and studied the remains. Bloated, with her face scarred beyond recognition, whoever this had been had spent enough time in the swamp they should either have started to decompose or been eaten by a gator or worse.

So why hadn’t she? And where were the insects?

“I didn’t catch what you're doing here,” Caroline said after a moment, tugging a pair of latex gloves free from where she stuffed them into her back pocket. It took a moment to tug them on, the humidity leaving her skin sticky. “You seem pretty prepared for a witch who just happened upon a body.”

Bonnie also wore what looked like police issued latex gloves, the material spelled with a little more protection built in than the average pair. But as a witch, Bonnie could have done the spells herself. It was the neat little kit next to her, filled with what were probably samples of the mud and whatever she had been collecting from the body, that really said that Bonnie wasn’t here as a concerned passerbier.

Huffing, Bonnie used her forearm to wipe at her cheek, her skin sweat damp in the muggy heat. “I’m the new Forensic and Magical Anthropologist for the Bureau. And no one ‘happens upon’ these things, Detective. I’ve been seeding the area with detection spells for weeks now. I just didn’t expect them to pop quite like this.”

Caroline snorted as she absorbed that bit of info.  “A Fed? Really, Bon? Did Grams shit a brick?”

Shooting her an exasperated look, Bonnie bent back over and continued her examination. “We’re not that bad.”

“Uh huh,” she retorted. “If you stayed out of my cases, maybe I’d believe that.” If they stayed out of her cases and had been more willing to tell the families the truth. Secrecy left behind open wounds.

“I could say the same thing,” Bonnie shot back, eyes challenging. “You do realize that since I was here first, this scene belongs to me? My boss will make the decision if we turn it over.”

Caroline frowned, trying not to think of who that boss was. “The remains are a bit fresh for your field, aren’t they?”

Bonnie shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll have the body delivered to the morgue; we’ll have to dispose of the flesh anyway. Whatever happened to this victim isn’t quite right, even for a fae-mauling. They should have started to decompose and nothing here has tried to eat it. That concerns me.”

Warily, Caroline glanced around. “You think it’s a trap?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll hit us both with a bit of magical napalm to kill anything that might try to attach when we’re done here.” She blew out a breath as she sketched a few quick runes over the body, the symbols glowing faintly for a few quick moments. “Though it seems clean, I don’t trust it. We’ll need to make sure the bones are contained.”

Caroline glanced at her. “Contained?”

A solemn look. “Monsters aren’t the only thing interested in the dead bits and pieces of potential biohazards, Detective.”

Considering those words, the truth of them, Caroline finally sighed. “Do you need help moving anything?”

“Nope. I think anything else will need to be collected once we get the body situated.”

“Alright, I won’t kick up a fuss if you share whatever you find.” Caroline lifted the camera off her neck, and she started snapping careful pictures. Whoever the Feds sent to move the body would likely do the same, but Caroline liked to have her own copies. Plus, the camera was special. 

Bonnie nodded. “Deal. But I want a copy of your pictures. That camera isn’t standard. In fact… It feels like void magic. But that’s impossible.”

Lips curling into a smirk, Catoline agreed. “It’s an experiment.”

Looking interested, Bonnie tipped her head to the side. “What does it do?”

“In theory, it’ll filter out any magical interference.” Gia and Enzo have been working with Enzo’s magic, to see if they could embed it. They’d started the project after what had happened with Silas and the collected evidence had been magically corrupted. So far, they’d only had mixed results. 

Bonnie’s brows lifted. “In theory?”

“The pics will either turn out or end up a weird mess of colors,” Caroline shrugged. “Your forensic minions should have more reliable equipment when they show up.”

“True,” Bonnie said slowly. “But Void magic is still mostly a big mystery. So very few survive the process. I’d be interested in watching these experiments.”

Caroline made a noncommittal noise. Enzo was her friend and her partner, not a science experiment. He could decide what experiments to allow, but that was his business. No one else's. Even if she was found surprisingly comfortable around Bonnie Bennett after all these years.

“Did you find anything interesting?” Caroline pointed the camera away from the body, snapped a few pictures of the swamp around them. “I don’t like this place.”

Bonnie sighed. “Agreed. And it’s hard to say what I’ve found. I’ll know more later.”

“Well, I trust your magical nohow over whomever took over for Alaric. Grams never trained a fool in her life.” Caroline reluctantly admitted as she straightened, glancing back towards her car as she heard the sound of vehicles driving carefully along what there was of a road. Backup was finally arriving. 

“You clearly don’t remember my mom well,” Bonnie replied dryly but there was no heat. “And I think the position of Medical Examiner is still technically vacant. Didn’t you hear?”

“Hear what?” Her gaze narrowed as she recognized the SUV’s pulling up as Federal. Her phone beeped in her back pocket, but she didn’t dare touch it until she’d been cleared of magical contamination. The camera had enough of Enzo’s magic to eat anything that tried to attach itself. 

She was still glaring at the slow moving vehicles when Bonnie spoke. “With the growing concern that we are likely to experience a catastrophic breach of the barrier, the State Legislators have decided that full cooperation between our departments and yours is necessary. We don’t need a morgue. You have one. Though I’m told it’s going to receive a few magical upgrades. Rebekah is… particular.”

Caroline muttered a few choice words under her breath as a familiar figure stepped out of an SUV, the door shutting loudly behind him. His ruffled curls were as recognizable as the tense line of his shoulders. Something twisted in her stomach at the first sight of him, awareness brushing along her skin. For a moment, she faced him, tongue tucked between her teeth as she tried to absorb the impact of his presence even so far from her. Shoving his sunglasses into his hair, Klaus stared back, the long line of him tense as he watched her. 

Deliberately turning her attention back to Bonnie, heart a staccato in her throat, she pulled a face. “Oh, goody. More Feds.”

Bonnie laughed softly and finally straightened, her field kit held firmly in one hand. “I don't think I can learn much more here. We should probably head back to shore, let the paramedics pack up the body.”

Knowing that she couldn’t avoid Klaus forever, Caroline nodded but hesitated, letting her eyes scan along the swamp. Bonnie paused as well, looking around. “What’s wrong?”

Caroline shook her head. “I’m not sure. It just feels like there should be more here. It’s too clean. I don’t trust clean. Not in the swamp.”

Bonnie looked troubled, and jerked her chin towards solid ground. They both started the trek back, and tension ran down Caroline’s spine until she noticed that Klaus was watching the swamp behind them, ignoring everything else. The tense line of her shoulders eased a hair. They’d at least get a warning if something charged them. 

“I don’t disagree,” Bonnie finally murmured as they neared the incline. “Did you get anything useful from your tip? 

“Just a tip that there was a body lying out in the open without a single scavenger,” Caroline replied. “My money is on a gator hunter who knew better than to stick around. I’ve got a twenty pound bag of rock salt in my trunk if you think you’ll need to ward the area.”

“I might.”

Caroline looked up when a hand appeared in front of her as they approached the bank. She frowned to find Klaus waiting on her. His eyes were blue today, and there was something about the set of his mouth that prickled warning down her spine. He arched a brow and she bit the tip of her tongue to keep from doing something dumb. Enzo would never let her hear the end of it if she fell into the mud instead of accepting help with her ankle still healing. 

She was still tempted. Touching Klaus was risky, it gave her dreams too many details and left her wondering about things that were better left as mysteries, but today it didn’t look like she had any choice. Taking his hand, Caroline let Klaus help her back onto solid ground. It was a strain, not to notice how solid he felt beneath her fingers and palm, the heat of his skin noticeable even through two layers of latex.  

“Thanks.”

He nodded, studying her face, and he didn’t immediately release her hand. “Of course, Detective. My understanding is you’ve just been cleared for field duty. I’d hate for you to relapse.”

She wasn’t at all surprised he’d been tracking her recovery, especially if Katerina was a mole for his family. Giving a slight tug, she refused to feel relieved when he finally let her go. 

“Is it?” She shrugged. “I heard you got a promotion.” 

Stripping off her gloves, she kept an eye on the Feds as Bonnie gave orders as she secured her kit in what looked like a box fashioned from cold iron. Beside her, she watched the slow curl of Klaus’ mouth out of her peripheral vision. A herd of wild horses couldn’t drag out of her just how unfair she found the shape of his mouth, but her abdomen went tight at the hint of dimple in his cheek. 

“Keeping track of me, Caroline?”

She snorted and tossed the latex into the biohazard bag one of Bonnie’s people brought over. Several more were slugging through the muck with a body bag. She did not envy them that job.

“I don’t need your people butting into my cases,” Caroline reminded him firmly, ignoring his question. “It was bad enough when you were sticking your nose into things. Now you have minions.”

“That may be so,” Klaus said, studying her with an intensity that felt like a touch. “But even you must recognize that there are some things your department doesn’t have the firepower to deal with.”

Setting her jaw at the carefully worded reminder of the recent events, she lifted her chin to growl back when the ground suddenly bucked and someone screamed. She staggered hard, ankle twinging painfully, and Klaus caught her. For a moment she froze like that, the hard line of his biceps beneath her palms as he steadied her, the feel of his skin fever hot. 

When the ground continued to shake, he yanked her up against him, and the firmness of his hand and arm a brand against her spine and side. The smell of him changed to the scent of an open flame, and she felt the magic gathering around them. Curling her fingers into his shirt, she hung on as the shakes continued to turn the ground violent beneath their feet.

Someone started screaming. 

Klaus barked a handful of orders, the edge in his voice easily carrying over the shrieks of his people. Gripping his shirt with both hands, Caroline twisted her head to stare at the swamp to see and inhaled sharply. Where the dead body had laid earlier, there were tentacles, nearly a dozen of them. The largest was at least seven feet in length. 

The Feds who had been sent out to collect the body had been scattered. Two were being swung through the air, their screams full of pain filled terror. One agent was scrambling through the mud towards the bank, her face bone white as she tried to get to safety.

Caroline couldn’t find the fourth. 

But it was clear the Feds weren’t the main attraction. Instead, unbothered by the mud and lack of deep water, one of the large tentacles wrapped around the body and dragged it back beneath the mud. The ground shuddered violently, but Klaus remained rock solid against her. 

Terror turned her mouth to ash as she watched the thing move. The tentacles were more than long enough to reach the shore and grab more victims. Only the feel of Klaus, hot and solid, kept her from sprinting for cover. She had a shotgun in the truck, but she wasn’t sure even rocksalt would penetrate the thickness of those tentacles. Horror closed her throat, and she heard seams pop from her grip on Klaus’ shirt. He remained rock steady against her, fingers splayed against her hip fever hot. 

“Bennett,” he growled. “A little urgency.”

Bonnie stepped forward, palms lifted, but before she could cast whatever spell she’d been planning, the tentacles suddenly retreated with alarming speed. The agent who had nearly reached the shore screamed as a tentacle snagged her around the waist. The sounds of guns firing seemed to do nothing as it dragged the agents beneath the mud. For several tense minutes everyone was unnaturally silent after the boom of the last expended cartridge died as they waited for it to come back. Caroline’s breath burned harshly in her throat, and she was unashamed by the grip she had on Klaus. 

Giant tentacle monsters were way outside her paygrade. 

“Bennett, secure the perimeter. Kol, help her.” The sound of Klaus’ firm voice broke through the shocked silence. “Someone secure those remaining samples and find me a response team. I want to know where it went and if we have a chance of recovery, and I want it five minutes ago.”

Forcing herself to release his shirt as the feds scrambled, Caroline leaned back. Klaus didn’t move, hand curved firmly against her hip. Biting the tip of her tongue to hold in her wince as she put pressure on her ankle, she tapped his wrist firmly. 

“Agent Mikaelson. I need to call this in.”

His gaze lowered to hers and she forced herself not to flinch when she saw his eyes. The blue was gone, the white hot center of his pupils bleeding his iris gold and turning his gaze inhuman. There was something dangerous about the set of his mouth, the angle of his jaw but she had never let him intimidate her and she wasn’t going to start now.

“This is our scene, Detective.” His gaze flickered over her shoulder. “The veil is far too thin here.”

Caroline nodded. This was way past her precinct's ability to handle. Whatever was going on in the swamp was dangerous. Most cops weren’t equipped to deal with tentacles and unholy swamp mud. “Agreed. But I still need to call it in. We get a half dozen reports a day that a body has been found in a swamp; real and fake. I’ll need to let the precinct know that those investigations need to be directed to you. My partner is also on his way, he needs to be warned.”

Klaus’ head dipped, eyes sharp and too bright against her face. “You’re not usually so helpful.”

She gave him a tight lipped smile. “That’s because you usually stick your nose into places you aren’t needed. This?” She jerked her chin, encompassing the swamp and everything in it. “Totally your kind problem.”

Those bright, calculating eyes narrowed but his hand fell away from her side. His gaze lowered, dragging down the line of her legs and lingering on the mud encrusted mess of her boots. Something his jaw shifted, mouth compressing before his eyes lifted to her face. “Agreed. It is my kind of problem. And as such, we’re going to need your boots, love.”

Caroline dropped her eyes to her feet and groaned. She was caked to her ankles in mud, and after seeing what had come out of the mud, she was wearing evidence. “Goddammit.”

Klaus made a noncommittal noise in his throat. “You’re probably not going to want to track that around. We’ll get you some plastic to wrap up in, but you’ll need to come with us to the morgue. I’ll have one of the agents drive your car.”

Glancing at the baby faced agents wandering around, she gave him a look full of disbelief. “You must be joking.”

His lips curved, the hard gold light in his gaze finally softening into a more familiar blue as he finally stepped away from her. The air was hot and muggy, but somehow she still felt a chill now that he wasn’t holding her. “Afraid not. Driving with both feet wrapped in plastic seems a bit unsafe. You can take the front seat in my SUV, if you like.”

The only thing worse than being chauffeured around by Klaus would be being stuck in the back seat. Huffing, she shifted her weight and couldn’t quite hide her wince as her ankle throbbed. His gaze sharpened, and she shook her head, cutting off whatever he was going to say. “I’m fine. It’s nothing that needs immediate attention.”

She watched as he clearly considered fighting her. Gaze dropping back to her muddy feet, he finally exhaled harshly. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his keys. Offering them, his head tipped towards one of the large SUVs. “Let’s get your feet wrapped and you tucked into my car, then. Bekah can look at your ankle when we’re at the morgue and you’ve gone through decontamination protocols.”

Caroline frowned, trying to pin down the familiarity of that name. “Bekah?”

A slashing look. “Dr. Rebekah Mikaelson. My sister.”

Turning on his heel, he started snapping out a series of orders. Bonnie twisted around a moment later and stared down her feet with an irritated expression, mouth drawn tight. Her gaze snagged Caroline’s, and for a moment they stood with mirrored expressions of complete exasperation. It almost made the way she had to bite her tongue as they wrapped her feet in plastic worth it. 

-

The clothes she’d been given after decontamination were two sizes too big and worn thin after too many washes, and she really wished she had a jacket. Morgue’s were never warm, and the hum of the air conditioning was a steady buzz to combat the muggy heat of New Orleans. The ice that Klaus’ sister had all but slapped onto her ankle wasn’t helping much either. Dr. Rebekah Mikaelson’s gaze had been frosty enough to freeze a dead body solid in thirty seconds as she’d demanded Caroline keep the bag in place for fifteen minutes before she’d disappeared with both her and Bonnie’s boots. 

Bonnie had shrugged at her, warm and cozy in her back up clothes, expression slightly sympathetic. “Rebekah takes some getting used to.”

Caroline snorted. “I can’t say I’d have noticed.”

Her old friend relaxed enough to smile, eyes warming a little. “Honestly, the whole family is like that but they do… grow on you, I suppose. Some of them, anyway.”

She made a noncommittal noise, unwilling to comment on anything about that particular family. She’d be willing to bet a significant portion of her life savings that there were a number of spells in the room monitoring their conversations. She’d have assumed Bonne would have noticed them, but she wasn’t taking any chances. 

“How long have you been with the feds?”

“Almost a year,” Bonnie answered easily enough. Her head tilted. “You’ve been here, what, six years?”

“Almost seven,” Caroline corrected. That information would give no secrets away and was a matter of public record. “A detective for most of that.”

Bonnie nodded, eyes going a little distant as she fell into her own thoughts. Caroline let her, the familiar tug of post-adrenaline exhaustion tugging at her bones. Needing a distraction, she took a moment to study the room. She had never spent much time in this section of the building, wouldn't even have known a break room existed if one of Klaus’ minions hadn’t ushered her and Bonnie into the small, but tidy space. Klaus had disappeared further into the morgue, and she hoped the staff here was used to him. It wouldn’t be easy studying samples while he prowled behind them, his impatience and temper sharp in the air. 

She sympathized.

It’d been a long ride back into the city limits. They hadn’t spoken much, but she’d gotten the impression he was riding a knife edge of anger and if he tipped the wrong way it would be disastrous. She couldn’t help but think about the feel of his magic, the heat of it burning in his eyes. She’d done a good job over the years, not letting the mystery that was Special Agent Klaus Mikaelson niggle at her in those rare, quiet moments in her life. But sitting in his oversized vehicle, the tense muscle and bone of him next to her, she’d wondered if the status quo between them had inevitably changed. The veil between her world and the nightmares the fae had tried to banish was weakening at an alarming rate and the witches had no answers. 

No one did. 

But it was starting to look like more than one magical family had a plan, but only time would tell just what those plans were and how badly humanity would come out on the other end. The first apocalypse had taught a lot of hard lessons, and left deep scars. What did it mean that Klaus had angled himself into this city, into a position of such authority? What did he want? And what did she do with the knowledge that watching him fume, the line of his jaw and the set of his shoulders rock hard, his magic noticeable to even her senses that she wasn’t worried his temper would pick her as the target?

There were too many questions she didn’t have the answers for. What she needed to figure out was what exactly he wanted and how deeply involved his family was in this mess. Dr. Rebekah Mikaelson seemed competent, and if Enzo could be believed, she was responsible for the magical repairs on her ankle. 

Deciding that was something to deal with later, she studied the seemingly mundane around her instead with cop eyes. There was a coffee pot, a small mini-fridge, and the couch was clearly new. Rebekah’s influence, she decided.  None of those items came cheap, and department budgets were always stretched too thin. Here, most of the allotted money would have gone to maintaining the air conditioning. No one wanted dead bodies exposed to warm, muggy air. The mini-fridge was a relic of the past and probably had been converted to an icebox which was easier to maintain with spells, but the look of it was cool. She wondered what kind of favors it’d take to get a pot of coffee going. She’d bet whatever Rebekah had on hand would be far better than the swill she’d spent her shift drinking. 

At least the couch was super comfy, and if she’d been anywhere else, she’d have settled in for some quick shut eye. Whatever had happened that afternoon was going to cause a stir and nothing good could come of it. Giving herself a moment to mourn the bed she wasn’t likely to see for several hours yet, she settled in to wait instead. 

“How long have you known Klaus?”

Caroline glanced at Bonnie as she broke the silence between them. “What do you mean?”

Bonnie's gaze was curious. “You seemed familiar with each other. I expected that but…” her words stopped and she frowned, gaze darting behind Caroline. “Ah. I think your partner is here.”

A moment later, Enzo strolled in carrying a very familiar bag over his shoulder. His expression was tense, but the hard line of his shoulders relaxed at the sight of her though his mouth tightened as he caught sight of her ankle. He offered her the bag he was carrying with a sigh. “I thought we’d agreed to fewer life or death situations when you were on your own.”

She accepted the emergency bag she kept at Enzo’s place with a murmured thanks, yanking on the zipper and digging for the sweater she knew was buried inside as well as her spare pair of sneakers. “It’s not like I planned on there being a giant tentacle monster hiding in the swamp, Enzo. And I did call you even though dispatch should have messaged you.”

“And yet, somehow I didn’t manage to make it out of the city limits before the fun was all over,” he replied dryly. “Exploring the swamp by yourself isn’t exactly wise for any number of reasons.”

Caroline rolled her eyes as she pulled on the extra layer. “I wasn’t by myself.”

Enzo’s gaze shifted to the witch next to her. “Oh? Replacing me already?”

Taking the hint, Caroline made introductions. “Enzo, meet Dr. Bonnie Benett, the new Forensic and Magical Anthropologist for the Bureau. Bonnie, this is Detective Enzo St. John, my partner.”

Bonnie smiled. “It's a pleasure.”

Enzo lifted a brow. “Bennett? From Mystic Falls, that Bennett?”

“Yes,” she said slowly, head tipping to the side.”But how would you know that?”

“You exposed that little heretic cult problem that was trying to bring down the veil. Helped catch Kai Parker. It was memorable.”

Bonnie’s eyes narrowed. “I’m surprised you know about that. Not many people do.”

He smiled, charm thick in his voice.“I had an interest in keeping an eye on that case file, and I know people. I hear things.” 

Her old friend didn’t look impressed with his explanation, and Caroline wished her luck. When Enzo clamped down on a source, not even a strange, self-proclaimed fae-god could get him to talk. She knew, because she’d seen Silas try, right before Enzo had sucked him dry. Shifting the bag, she carefully slid her camera inside, tucking it between her second favorite set of sweats before closing the bag and casually tucking it behind her legs. 

“Dispatch sent around a very interesting warning about fifteen minutes ago and is requesting that all patrol calls check in every half hour.” Enzo continued, his gaze moving between the women with something hard behind his eyes. “Quite a curious change of events, when they were so adamant that things were getting back to normal. So what exactly did you two do?”

“What do you mean what did we do?” Caroline questioned, gaze narrowing. “This wasn't my fault; blame dispatch. I was just following up on the tip since everyone else had their hands full.” 

“And the fact that you were off duty and should have been heading home to grab some shut eye?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Semantics.”

Enzo let out a long sigh. “And you wonder how you find so much trouble.”

A muffled cough filled the room, and Caroline turned her head to glare at a clearly amused Bonnie. “Really, Bon?”

The childhood nickname slipped out, but Bonnie only smiled. “He’s not wrong. You do have a knack for trouble. You always have.”

“It seems to be something you share in common.” 

The clipped, british accent broke into their conversation without warning, and Caroline turned to find that Klaus had finally joined them. She narrowed her eyes, she hated it when he snuck up on her, and he met her gaze unflinchingly. Behind him stood his sister and another dark haired man who shared their dimples and Rebekah’s cheekbones. Another family member then. 

How many did Enzo say he had?

Bonnie’s chin lifted. “I followed protocol to the letter.”

“Come now darling, going into a swamp all by your lonesome with only a human cop as backup?” The dark haired man tsked. “Seems risky. Did you not take my warnings seriously about what I would do if you managed to be pulled into the otherside of the veil?”

Definitely related, she thought, recognizing that particular brand of threat. Bonnie didn’t seem particularly impressed by it, and it made Caroline like her childhood friend just a bit more.

“No one takes anything you say seriously,” Bonnie returned flatly. “The idea that you’d do something for someone else without expecting an equally great favor in payment is even less believable.”

Kol’s eyes narrowed, and as much as Caroline wanted to let the argument play, see how much they could learn, now wasn’t the time. Enzo’s gaze met hers and the exasperation there had her fighting a smile. But her partner gamely inserted himself smoothly into the conversation.

“Must have been something pretty impressive at the swamp to get your team so riled, Dr. Bennett.” He crossed his arms and smiled, ignoring Kol’s narrow-eyed look. “What exactly did my partner get herself involved in?”

“It was a kraken,” Rebekah answered, her back still to the room and her voice bored. “A tiny one.”

Enzo straightened at those words, expression going flat. “A kraken.”

“I thought kraken kept to deep waters,” Caroline said slowly, something cold settling in her gut. “There hasn’t been a sighting in a few decades.”

Rebekah huffed and walked across the room to what would have once been an electric teapot that had been converted to run on magic. Hitting a button, she stared moodily at it as it started to heat the water. “We’ve known for some time that there was a possibility that the creatures on the other side of the veil are adapting, mutating. It seems like we now have proof.”

Bonnie reached up and rubbed a fingertip between her eyes as if to chase away a growing headache. “The veil shouldn’t be receding this quickly; the magic that formed it isn’t breaking, it's disappearing. Not even Kai was able to do that, and he did more than enough damage.”

Caroline wondered if that was why Bonnie had been putting out so many detection spells and made a mental note to ask Enzo about Kai Parker, and what exactly his little cult had hoped to accomplish. That Rebekah had named the monster at the swamp a kraken, that it was a small one…

Uneasy, she glanced over at Klaus to find him watching her. His eyes were blue now, the worst of his rage tucked back into the hidden spaces where he kept it. There was something about the tilt of his lips, the angle of his eyes that concerned her far more than the words that Rebekah and Kol had been tossing around.

The veil was going to fall. 

“How much time do we have?”

To his credit, he didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. 

“Days,” Klaus said. “Maybe a week, if the deterioration continues at this rate.”

The dark haired witch smiled brightly, eyes gleaming. “I, for one, can’t wait. This is going to be so much fun.”

“Kol,” Bonnie snapped, voice hard.

Kol sighed and shrugged, hands sliding into his pockets. “Oh, don’t look so annoyed, witchling. Everyone in this room has known this was coming for years. That something sped up the timeline just makes it interesting, don’t you think?”

“A lot of people are going to die,” Caroline said flatly. “I don’t find that interesting.”

An amused look full of cocksure arrogance. “It's not like you're going to be one of the unlucky ones going into something’s gullett, darling. Not with Klaus keeping both eyes on you, though I’m not particularly sure of the appeal.”

Caroline didn’t bother responding to his baiting, recognizing his type. She didn’t doubt that Kol was a powerful witch, but he was as likely to use that power for a prank as for anything else. Any help from him was likely to bite. 

Enzo gave him a lazy smile. “Short sightedness does seem to be an affliction of witches.”

Those dark eyes narrowed when Rebekah laughed, and then Kol smirked. “The Void. I had forgotten you existed. You do collect the most interesting friends for a human, Detective Forbes.”

“That’s enough,” Klaus cut in before Kol could keep going. “Rebekah, what do you need?”

She turned with a mug in her hand and stalked over, shoving it at Caroline. “From you? Nothing. The spells here will contain whatever magical residue the kraken left behind. Human flesh is its preferred choice for a meal, so I imagine more bodies will start popping up in the bayou.”

“Of course they will,” Kol said. “Human’s never stay where they are supposed to.”

Rebekah pinned him with a glare. “Then you won’t mind finding me one. Between us, I’m sure Bonnie and I can give a much more thorough report once we’ve had a recently dead specimen to study instead of just scrapings of rotting mud.”

“If I must.”

“You must,” Rebekah replied. “Until then, stay out of my morgue and stop terrifying my people.”

Bonnie frowned a little, brows bunching together. “The spells I’ve layered on the bayou will give us some warning if the deterioration escalates, but I’ll need to check them manually to confirm.”

“You’ll take another witch with you,” Klaus said firmly. “There will be no more solo missions.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Caroline asked when it was clear that everyone was done making demands, chin dipping towards the mug of steaming liquid she’d been given as she eyed the clearly annoyed witch. 

“Drink it.”

“Yes, thank you.” She managed to say through a somewhat polite smile. “Why?”

“I spent a lot of magic putting your ankle back together,” the blonde said coolly. Tossing her braid over her shoulder, she gave Caroline a tight smile. “That will ensure the healing sticks. Drink it or not I suppose, but I won’t be fixing your ankle a second time.” 

“Charming,” Enzo murmured as Rebekah swept out, his lips curling slightly in the corners. “I like her.”

Bonnie stood with a snort. “I suppose someone should. If that is all, Mikaelson, I’m going to go see just those slides Rebekah’s minions are studying for magical contamination.” Klaus tipped his head in silent permission and Bonnie paused in the doorway. Her eyes caught Caroline’s and they flickered briefly towards the gym bag at her legs. “We’ll talk later, Care.”

To keep from having to answer immediately, she took a cautious sip of whatever it was that Rebekah had shoved at it. It wasn’t the worst tasting tea she’d ever had, so she took another and very, very carefully didn’t look at Klaus. She’d wondered if Bonnie was going to bring up the camera in front of Klaus. She wondered what it meant that her old friend hadn’t. 

Kol didn’t bother saying goodbye as he followed Bonnie down the hall, a jaunty whistle echoing down the hallway.

“Your brother is a piece of work.”

Klaus lifted a brow at Enzo’s words, unbothered. “He’s been called worse, all of it accurate.”

“I’m assuming I’m free to go?” Caroline asked when it looked like her partner was going to say something else. The last thing she needed was him picking a fight with Klaus. She wrinkled her nose, glanced at her tea. “After I finish this, at least.”

“I have no intention of keeping you here longer than necessary,” Klaus murmured, gaze lowering to skim along her body, a hint of gold glinting in his pupil. “But there are a few things we must discuss. How did you end up at my scene, love?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Its Detective, and I was responding to a request to investigate from dispatch. Information from the call should be logged.”

“I’m sure our delightful Commander-in-Chief is digging into the details,” Enzo supplied cheerfully. “She wasn’t particularly thrilled to learn that you were almost tentacle bait. Particularly since you were supposed to be off duty.”

Caroline shot him a sour look. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

Klaus tipped his head, considering her words. “There are still a number of locals determined to make a living off the swamp despite the dangers, I’m not sure we’ll get much from that front.”

“You think it was a set up?”

A shake of his head. “Unlikely. At least, it wasn’t a trap meant to catch anyone specific if it was a set up. More likely, someone wanted me to know they have power.”

“Wanted you to know?” Caroline repeated. “A bit arrogant, don’t you think?”

Something terrible moved behind his eyes, hot jagged lines of gold barely visible before disappearing. “Not at all. The veil is going to fall, Caroline. And when it does, the lines of power are going to change. I’ve claimed this city as mine.”

There were so many things about that statement that pinged her instincts. The glint behind his eyes, the set of his mouth told her he meant those words. He thought them true. The edge of his mouth kicked up, something possessive and territorial bleeding through his expression as he watched her before it disappeared again. “But I won’t keep you. You just finished your shift, if I heard correctly? Rebekah has cleared you of any potential magical contamination, but I expect you to call it in if you have any reason to think otherwise.”

Enzo made an amused noise. “She feels clean.”

Klaus studied her partner for a long moment before nodding. “Understood, but the orders stay the same.”

Caroline frowned at them both, eyes flickering from one to the other, exasperation turning her voice sharp. “Seriously? I’m not a rookie.”

A hint of a smile tugged at Klaus’ mouth but disappeared as he glanced back at Enzo. “I assume you can get her home?”

“I can drive myself,” Caroline tartly interjected. 

“That’s the plan,” Enzo agreed, ignoring her pithy comment as his hands slid into his pockets. “I’ll make sure she makes it safe and sound.”

Klaus’ eyes gleamed as they met hers before something caught his attention down the hall. “I’ll have someone drop your car off. Do try to stay out of trouble for the rest of the night, love. The next few days are likely to keep us all busy. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Best finish your tea,” Enzo suggested into the silence after they’d watched Klaus leave. “We still have to call in an update to the commander and who knows how long that will take, and I for one am ready for my bed.”

Sighing, she gulped down the tea before shoving her feet into her sneakers and standing. Enzo took her mug as she gathered her things, putting it in the small dishwasher.  Caroline paused for a moment to glance down the long hallway Klaus had disappeared. There had been something in his voice, the glitter behind his eyes that warned her she was only seeing a small part of the picture. Instinct and the nagging curiosity that made up the heart of who she was a detective was hyper aware of Klaus had gone. But she could let it go for now. 

Because he’d been right. 

She didn’t doubt she was going to see him very soon.

[chupitulpa]

It's me again, permaswitch guy.

TW: depression, suicide

The same anon from the last post asked:

Hey, thanks for your reply and for uploading it so fast. I come here to answer your reply and add a little something after.

First of all thank you for your acceptance and kindness, as a tulpamancer but also as a depressed person. Come to think of it it is ridiculous how long we took to reach this point, over 6 times longer than most, but then it’s logic too because of how randomly I forced over time. To lazy or extremely lazy hosts, there is hope. I don’t encourage laziness on anyone of course, but you can still achieve progress if you give it enough time. This may sound counterproductive, but trying so badly can cause a lot of stress and doubts, while giving your brain time to accomodate to a new mindset might be helpful. Ideally hosts should find a balance between forcing and letting the mindset in.

Next let me talk about your proposed alternative solutions. I find it strange that you encourage me to step further into my comfort zone. It’s probably because I haven’t told you anything, but this is already what I’m doing as much as I can and I keep being told this is only making things worse because I have to step out of it to make changes and go anywhere in my life. However in contrast, you think more like me. I’m so much going into my comfort zone that I’m avoiding talking to anyone or leaving home ever. May expand on it later. About groups to fit in: I don’t work well on 1-to-1, leave alone on groups. That’s why I prefer being away of tulpa Discord servers. I always go unnoticed and/or misunderstood. Looking for friends or relationship outside of our system is something I’ve finally given up on, after continuous failures. May expand on it later. Lastly I’ve been to therapists for almost all my life and while this sounds like nonsense, they and medications have never proven to help me personally. I find a simple talk with my tulpa to be much better than years of medication and therapists.

Before I go with the last issue I’d like to say that unlike many would think I have morals too, so yeah, it’s probably a better idea for us to switch than for me to create another tulpa yet for the sake of switching.

Now, I’ve had this issue going on for my entire life and specially since 2020. This is not strictly related to tulpamancy but I think many tulpas will be able to relate to this, unlike most hosts. I, however, am host, and am dealing with this.

Many people like to think of themselves as something else than humans or even feel as if they were also something else. Most notably the furry community, which I’ve been interacting with for years, is full of people who besides humans would like to be a fursona, or even feel more as if they were their fursona than a human. I, however, take this to the next level. I have been both unvoluntarily and voluntarily distancing myself from the concept “human”. It is not something positive to me being one. As such I’ve been suffering of “species dysphoria”, or am trans-species. I bet many many tulpas who have fronted have had this issue if they weren’t made after humans to begin with. However I cannot say the same for hosts. Indeed I’m the only host I know so far who thinks they aren’t human and would rather be some yellow dragon drawn by a furry artist. This issue is easily fixed with a switch. Not saying I’m switching because of this, but it is something nice knowing that I can stop being trapped in a human body and just be myself. Believe me, species dysphoria can get to the same points or even worse than gender dysphoria. Fortunately I never had the latter. So maybe now you understand why I am isolating myself too.

Looking back at my old asks here now I know much more about tulpas than I used to back then. Yeah I’m happy we made progress too, but I wish things would have been different. I wish I could be more consistent and this wouldn’t have took or take nearly as long. Not only for seeing it as a chore, but also because we run out of time to survive. Some pressure to live on. Thanks to my tulpa I’m more hopeful and relaxed, and we’re trying our best to delay another suicide attempt for as long as we can. But we can’t do that forever so ultimately it’ll happen. Thanks to him I also think about it twice since now it’s two of us.

Say, may I ask if you’re religious? What do people tend to think on tulpa afterlife? It’s not a topic you hear much about in the community.

Oh I almost forgot. I want to get rid of this life, the human life, 100%. This means after switch I don’t care what happens on this side. Giving the fronter full permission to do as wanted, as opposed to other cases where the original host wanted to leave but also still cared about their human body’s life, bringing unnecessary worry and ultimately a regret of permanent switch. I think this is something important. I always think of this life as a burden that was put on me, and have been despising it since 2008. As such, I see my parents in the same eyes as you would see a tulpamancer who creates a tulpa solely to have them switch. Totally unacceptable behaviours. Of course, I understand a child can never choose to be born or not, while a tulpa can choose whether to switch or not. But my parents could have refrained from having a son in the first place, specially if they were going to be neglectful parents. This world is one unjust place.

My reply:

Don't worry about how long it took to get there. Some people barely force at all and have a talking tulpa in a day or two. Others work at it for years before hearing a peep. Laziness happens too and definitely contributes. Stress, doubts, laziness and working too hard at it can all produce slower progress. And depression contributes to all of the above as well.

As a depressed and socially awkward person, I have to say I can relate to the urge not to go out or talk to people. The current situation in 2020 has not helped either. Like you, I didn't get a whole lot out of meds or talk therapy. Tulpa stuff does help a great deal, but I keep falling off it and back into the awful depression.

I do think that full isolation isn't healthy. However, as far as I can tell, this doesn't seem to apply as much to tulpas if the host/whoever is fronting interacts with people some. Whether the tulpas are fully active and thinking or just snoozing in the background, they seem to benefit from the interaction the same way the host/fronter does. Or at least that's our experience. I don't know whether it works like that because they're in the background experiencing it to some degree, or if it affects something that's shared between all of us; my tulpas seem to think it's a combination of the two.

If the tulpa you already made is able and willing to try switching, give it a shot. I don't know how many other tulpa systems this applies to, but I think there's a special bond between the original host and their first tulpa: You discovered all the stuff you know about tulpamancy together, encountered and overcame the obstacles together, and discovered a lot about your minds together. If he's unable, doesn't want to, or tries it and decides it's not for him, you could (together!) try making another. But be sure to value them as a person and friend first and foremost, and emphasize that the switching thing is entirely optional.

I actually know more than one person who, for one reason or another, wishes that they would wake up in a world where they're a dragon, pony, canine, etc. The species dysphoria is certainly tied in with depression one way or another though I'm not sure which starts first. I can see why you won't care to interact with humans if you don't identify with or relate to them.

I am not religious. If there is an afterlife though, I would certainly want to be together with my tulpas in it. I haven't seen a lot of discussion on it, particularly since I've really just been involved with Tulpa.info which takes a secular, scientific viewpoint.

I'm curious. What would you like to do after switching? Be basically like a tulpa, doing your own thing in your wonderland and interacting with the new fronter when he has time?

Since you mention suicide, I feel obligated to mention the crisis text line. Text HOME to 741741 (US), 85258 (UK) or 686868 (Canada) to start a chat with an understanding person who can help you through your moment of crisis. I know people who have used it and they had positive experiences. Or there's 1-800-273-8255 (US) if you'd rather talk. Or a list of similar services in more countries than I can count.

[placesyoucallhome]

Allyria ‘Salt’ Myzarian

The Basics ––– –

Age: A few centuries, seems to appear to be 40-50 by hyur standards

Birthday: 22nd Sun of the 3rd Umbral moon

Race: Viera

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual, female leaning

Marital Status: Single

Server: Mateus

Physical Appearance ––– –

Hair: A light, greying lavender

Eyes: A bright, sparkling gold

Height: 6'

Build: Soft and curvy, a life of library and office work hasn’t left room for much tone

Distinguishing Marks: Seems to show age a tad more than other viera or even other Sharlayan scholars with crows feet and greying strands of hair

Common Accessories: Wine bottle, book, reading glasses

Personal ––– –

Profession: Master Librarian for Sharlayan, with a focus on historical texts

Hobbies: Drinking wine, reading, collecting books, scribing first hand experiences and memories of people, plays a psaltery

Languages: Common, able to read if not conversational in most other languages

Residence: Sharlayn

Birthplace: The Wood

Religion: The Twelve

Patron Deity: Thaliak

Fears: Being alone, getting information wrong, getting sick again

Relationships ––– -

Spouse: None

Children: None

Parents: She’s never met them

Siblings: Unsure

Other Relatives: Most likely, but she doesn’t know them

Pets: None

Traits ––– -

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit: Not really Drugs: No Alcohol: If it’s wine, then yes

RP Hooks ––– –

Sharlayan Librarian- Finally head of her department, after decades, nearly centuries, of being passed by for other more conservative candidates, Salt is the Master of her library. Being around for centuries though, many other Sharlayans would know of her at least in passing during studies. Or at least as ‘that odd bunny woman in the stacks’.

Scholarly Pilgrimage- As one of few that can say she saw both the inception and fall of the Sharlayan colony of Idylleshire, she still counts it as a grave mistake to leave so much wasted knowledge and progress behind to rot and wither. She means to reclaim what she can, though she knows she cannot do it without help. She was granted some funds to hire bodyguards and support, but frankly, not very much. She does perhaps lean on her merchant friend to cover other costs a bit too much.

Orphan of the Wood- Though Salt readily admits she is from the Wood, she remembers none of it. Taken into the halls of the Sharlayan medical school as a sickly infant, she grew up primarily around hyur and elezen. She is cautiously curious about other viera and her birth country, but is unsure how much she wishes to know.

Wine Enthusiast- When not reading, writing, or researching, Salt is likely drinking, and she can’t resist a good wine. Though she favors the sweeter wines like chardonnay and moscato, she’s made it a hobby to try as many different kinds as she can while out in the wider world. She’s particularly interested in trying Hingan rice wines.

Weak Constitution- Salt was given to the Sharlayan medical school as an infant, on the grounds that she likely would not have survived otherwise. While she recovered as a child, her immune system was permanently weakened. She can get sick quite easily, and when she does it’s usually grave. A friendly doctor in Eorzea that she can turn to would ease the minds of her and her friends.

Contact Information  ––– –

OOC: Yo kiddos, I’m Ruhka, or Q, hell call me Salt or Places if you want, I don’t care! I’m primarily a paragraph rper that likes to match, and that’s still attempting to get into game rping, I might be a little slow to respond in game is all. I’m well and truly old enough to drink and I’d far prefer it if my partners were 21+ as well, and have a sporadically busy office job. I’m willing to do some mature topics, and plenty of dark topics, but erp is a no go right off the bat. But if it makes sense for the characters and I’m comfortable with your writing style that can change.

Contact: Feel free to poke or message me here, or send Salt random starters or questions (my anon is on)! If somehow you see me in game, toss me a whisper, or just /slap me, either works! If you’d rather my discord I can give that as well. 

@ffxiv-crystal-rp​ @mooglemeet​ @crystalxivrp​ 

Tagged Posts

[captain-black-water]

I’chi “Black Water” Tia

The Basics ––– –

Age: Thirty-seven

Race: Seeker of the Sun Miqo’te/Highlander Hyur

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

Marital Status: Single

Server: Mateus - Crystal

Physical Appearance ––– –

Hair: Thick black hair with a constant shine. He doesn’t care for it as often as he should, usually letting it get slick with grease and sea salt until someone negs him enough to do something about it. When down his hair reaches down to about his midsection but, more often than not, he will usually put his hair up in some thickly bound braids that he then bundles in a knot.

Eyes: A keen feline yellow, with the trademark Seeker pupils. However, his right eye is marred by a cloudy texture. A birth defect that labels him as blind at a glance. Though his left eye is without this distinctive feature, it’s certainly no more capable of focusing on any one detail.

Height: 6′3″

Build: Broad chested, with well-defined muscle. I’chi keeps himself well in shape, focusing mostly on his naturally strong Miqo’te legs and his chest.

Distinguishing Marks: One of the first things anyone might notice about I’chi are the tattoos that decorate his face. They resemble the stripes of a tiger, turning his already intimidating features all the more grim and fearsome. But those aren’t his only tattoos. On his back, I’chi sports the image of a white tiger immerging from the depths of a black sea, surrounded by brilliantly marbled koi and vibrant orange petals. The colors are vivid and distinct with strong black lines, perhaps so that I’chi himself might be able to see them in a mirror’s reflection.

Common Accessories: I’chi finds himself in many different outfits but one accessory that he maintains throughout all of them is the gold earring near the tip of his right ear. It is sometimes, but not always, accompanied by some other rings that don’t shine quite as brightly.

Personal ––– –

Profession: Self-employed. I’chi runs the show that provides the downtrodden and poor with what they need to survive and get back on their feet, employing the street rats of Eorzea’s major cities to keep their eyes and ears open. He learns and deals with secrets, often using what intelligence he gathers to blackmail and bring down corrupt nobles and politicians in Ul’dah. Meanwhile, in Limsa Lominsa, he anonymously provides the Maelstrom with tips and information on criminals within their jurisdiction. Any gil I’chi earns through his efforts - often taken from those who stole it to begin with - is redistributed to those in need. None of these dealings, however, are public knowledge and he does not speak of these dealings openly.

Hobbies: In his free time, I’chi occupies his time by drinking or getting himself into someone else’s bed. Often both at once. There’s no better way for him to forget about the past than to be too busy finding pleasure in the present. 

Residence: Owns a home in Shirogane known as “Tiger Lily Cottage” where he often frequents and stays during his visits to the Far East. He as well owns a rundown and abandoned mansion somewhere within Thanalan, given the deed to the place after the owner passed away. He’s done little to nothing with the places, aside from paying it the occasional visit.

Birthplace: Details of where I’chi was born are unknown to him, but his best guess is wherever the I tribe of Miqo’te make their home. He never bothered to learn where that may be.

Patron Deity: Llymlaen.

Fears: True vulnerability. Getting too close to someone. His past. Being submerged underwater. Losing what very little sight he still has. 

Relationships ––– -

Spouse: Negative

Children: N/A

Parents: Miqo’te Mother, Deceased. Highlander Hyur Father, MIA.

Siblings: Yes, though he doesn’t know of where they are or if they’re still alive. None share his mixed heritage.

Other Relatives: Yes but, similar to the above, he doesn’t know them. Nor does he wish to.

Pets: Some fish back home in Shirogane.

Traits ––– -

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––– –

Themes and more: For the comfort and well being of all involved, it is very important that I make clear some potentially triggering subjects. I’chi’s past deals with themes of sexual violence, other non-violent sexual situations, parental death, murder, and strong language. Additionally, I’chi himself deals with depression and copes poorly through alcoholism and non-violent sexual acts. All that being said, I roleplay I’chi lightheartedly and save the darker themes for when I am sure that those participating in the roleplay are comfortable exploring those heavier themes. Just as people in the real world are flawed and multidimensional, so too is I’chi (or at least that’s how I hope to depict him), which means there are some things to his character that are rightfully considered to be bad. I will not fault anyone for only wishing to see the lighthearted side of I’chi’s character.

What I’m Looking For: I’m hoping to broaden my horizons as a roleplayer by roleplaying with many different people and experiencing new and interesting situations! I am always open to making friends and discussing potential plot ideas. I appreciate many different themes, but I would lying if I said I didn’t have a preference. While I can enjoy comedic and lighthearted stories, I find I am only ever truly invested in those with emotional weight, nuance, and depth. I prefer dark and/or romantic themes, but not so much in that I crave constant edge and agony or only erotic entanglements. Balance, y’know? Most of all, I have a story for I’chi that I wish to see unfold, and I want to welcome others to join me in telling that story - and yours too!

RP Hooks ––– –

Black Water: I’chi was raised amongst the Bloodtides crew under the careful watch of their captain, a man who held the title of “Black Water”. Under Black Water’s command, I’chi and the rest of the Bloodtides laid siege to many innocents, earning their name by turning the tide’s red with blood. Around the time I’chi entered his adulthood he began to plot to overthrow the reigning Black Water and usurper his title, successfully convincing enough of the crew to join him in his bloody revolution. His actions left the Bloodtides fewer in numbers, yet I’chi’s reign as the new Black Water led the crew to riches untold. However, as fate would have it, I’chi’s time as captain was cut short as he was done in by the same fate as the Black Water before him. Although he survived being tossed overboard with weights strapped to his arms and legs, his reputation did not. I’chi was declared dead and, though he later showed his face again to the Maelstrom that sought his head, the people were content to let that be the end of his story. Perhaps your character was affected by the Bloodtides at some point in their life, either before, during, or after I’chi’s reign as Black Water. Perhaps your character was one of the Bloodtides on his crew. Or perhaps you simply knew the legends as they were so often told around Limsa’s docks. Either way, there are plenty of different avenues to explore with this legacy!

White Tiger: One might think that I’chi being as large and distinctive as he is might be why the eyes of Kugane’s citizens can’t seem to look away, but the name they whisper under their breath tells a different story. The tale of the ‘White Tiger of Kugane’ they mutter to those not in the know. A tale regaling the exploits of one beastly figure, more animal than man, whose loyalties they cannot disconcern. They speak of how he once worked as the muscle for a gang of criminals who terrorized Kugane’s merchants, taking a cut from their profits in exchange for the kindness of leaving them and their wares be. But suddenly, one day, the White Tiger turned his blade on the very master that held their leash. He severed their head from their shoulders on the city streets, turning his white coat red and stirring panic and awe in the people. As the authorities gave chase, he led them back to where the criminals made their home, vanishing from sight and leaving the others to take the fall. His actions freed the people from a threat they could not oppose on their own, and for that they are grateful. But were his actions truly selfless? Your character may have had a run-in with I’chi during this time in his life, or maybe they were witness to his infamous deed. Perhaps they only know the legend. I am open to discussing any connections, just let me know!

Contact Information/About the player ––– –

Hello, and thank you for reading this far! My name is Blake, and you can usually find/contact me here or on I’chi Tia on Mateus. Btw I 100% stole this format from my friend Speedie, who you can find here. I keep a bit of an odd, migrating schedule, but I am always happy to make room for some RP whenever we can make it work! 

[somniumoflight]

Crossover Idea #11 – My Hero Academia/Minecraft

Izuku has a Quirk that lets him transport himself back and forth between the real world and the world of Minecraft.

So, I’ve been on a Minecraft binge for a week or so at this point. I was bored and I was suddenly struck with the urge to re-watch an MC role-play series I haven’t watched in literal years, and then I started watching Game Theory’s newest Minecraft theories, and later, somewhere in the middle of building something in Creative, my brain suddenly spat out the idea of hey what if Izuku had a quirk that let him enter the MC world?  Like, you don’t need powers to be a hero there, you just need to know how to learn/craft.  This was the result of that thought spinning wildly out of control.

So, here’s the idea I’ve got in my head so far.  Somewhere around, oh, the ten-to-twelve-year range, Izuku’s getting really depressed.  The bullying he’s dealing with is worse than it was ever shown to be in canon, the teachers are even worse, and he’s just having a generally hard time.  After a particularly bad day, Izuku doesn’t feel like watching any hero vids for once, and instead looks around for some other vids to watch for something to do, and finds a Minecraft YouTuber in the process and falls in love with the game.  It basically becomes his second major obsession, and his mom gets him a copy of the game for his birthday (secretly glad that Izuku is interested in things other than Heroes now.)

When Izuku installs the game, though, and goes to make his first single-player survival world, the Quirk he never knew he had activates, and he’s dragged into the computer screen and dumped straight into the MC world – or, rather, a real world similar to the game, complete with the same game mechanics but a lot more meat to its lore and history and the creatures living in it.  This is no longer just a game, it’s a real world he can explore in all its blocky glory.  Izuku ends up surviving on his own for several Minecraft days, slightly terrified but able to hide from the mobs well enough, and when his Mom comes in to tell him dinner’s ready and finds the game apparently running on its own, she pauses it and the screen spits a shocked Izuku right back out at her.  

So yeah, Izuku’s quirk is Minecraft-based.  He, personally, thinks this is really cool, but since all he can do is jump back and forth between IRL and the world behind the screen, not even take anything with him as he comes and goes, it’s pretty useless for Hero work, and the people in his school still treat him the same because they’re stupid and prejudiced.  He retreats into MC more and more as time goes on, because after the initial scare it became hella fun to live out a life there, and its a good way to escape his normal life’s torment.  He meets Villagers, who are actual people capable of speaking and being friendly to newcomers and stuff, and makes a few friends in the first village he finds.  He explores a LOT, and encounters Illagers as well as normal unfriendly mobs.  He starts learning how to sword-fight, because clearly he needs to lessons after that encounter with Illagers.  He starts getting more and more invested in the MC world, but is conflicted about it, because he still has dreams of being a Pro-Hero.

Then Izuku meets All Might, and has his dreams crushed.  He doesn’t get a chance to impress All Might by saving Bakugou, because instead of sticking around he just goes straight home immediately to dip back into the MC world, as its his go-to-comfort at this point.  At that point, his Villager friends help him finally figure out that his world really isn’t a good place for him – and so he talks to his mom, and they make a deal.  If Izuku can’t find something he feels is worth sticking around in their world for (other than his mom, of course) by the time he finishes high school, Inko’s okay with him basically moving into the Minecraft world full-time if it will make him happy.

So, while Class 1-A at Yuuei gets into villain-related disasters and misadventures, Izuku’s having his own misadventures, both in the MC world and his non-Yuuei high school.  In the high school, he’s mostly trying to find something he wants to do with his life that isn’t Hero-related, and trying to make new friends.  In the MC world, though, he’s helping his Villager friends and getting into misadventures that would probably make class 1-A balk, even while slowly building up that world into something magnificent without realizing that he’s sorta become a hero in his own right.

Details for this Crossover include:

Izuku’s quirk basically works by taking him through the screen into whatever Minecraft world he previously logged into.  This does work on servers, btw, though Izuku avoids almost everything to do with PVP once he figures out that shit hurts for real and leaves him with injuries irl.

He mostly prefers to stick to his first survival world as a result, or to do stuff in creative in a different world.  He may or may not sometimes dive into multiplayer servers, though, mostly minigame servers, and in the process accidentally make friends with some of the regulars there.  (He also may or may not sometimes encounter the Minecraft-playing Class 1-A members and the occasional villain from the League that way, not that he realizes it until Bakugou of all people turns up and one of the villains, Toga, tells him cheerfully who she is.)

Izuku gets turned into a blocky version of himself while in MC, mostly because Izuku’s freak-out about turning into an MC player character would be fun to write, but also because there’s no way that the Illagers wouldn’t do something to him if he was walking around as a normal human AND as a Player.  See MatPat’s vids about them, and assume the Illagers are up to that kind of shady shit.

At first Izuku just explores the world and wanders between villages once he finds them, helping people out (he’s useful!  He’s not useless here!)  Up until All Might crushes his dreams, though, that’s p much all he’s doing.  He’ll, like, fight off mobs and save villagers, and make friends in the process, but his mind’s still set on being a hero while MC is… possibly a way to go about being one?

He makes friends with several Villager children/teenager equivalents in the process, and this friendship with them makes it clear to him that his “friendship” with Bakugou is pretty fucked up.  It takes a while, but he gets there eventually!

When his dreams of being a hero are crushed and he doesn’t get One for All, Izuku ends up spending more and more time in MC when not in school or working on school stuff, because the “real” world just doesn’t seem like a good place for him.  He starts helping the villagers fortify their villages against mobs and Illagers, helps traveling merchants, and starts learning more about the history of this world in the process.

After an incident in his new school leads to him begging his mom to let him be homeschooled or do stuff online, he starts getting more ambitious.  He starts building cities for the slowly growing Villager population of the world, fighting off hordes of mobs, exploring ancient ruins Indiana-Jones-style, and starts helping the Villagers deal with the Illager threat for good.

He goes on that whole “defeat the enderdragon” quest and may or may not end up hatching a baby ender dragon as a pet by complete accident.  (I like the dragon rider mod in MC ok, and come on, Izuku’s slowly turning into an MC badass, he NEEDS a pet dragon like I need to breathe.)

… He also may or may not encounter a very unusual stranger in the wilderness, one that almost looks like another human, who helps him out during this time.  (He SAYS he’s Steve, but there’s something a little off about him, and he’s not too keen on interacting with other people for some reason?  And doesn’t seem to understand them all that well?  And seems to like acting like a bad guy, to an extent?  Izuku clues onto the fact there’s something p weird about him soon after meeting him.  But hey, he’s not going to judge, and isolation can really mess with your head, right?  He read that somewhere.)

… Steve may or may not be possessed.  By someone who is supposed to look very similar to him. (Wink wink.)  Who may or may not be intrigued by Izuku when he first meets the kid, because this kid is clearly incredibly smart, and he’s bored and kinda wants to see what this kid will grow into before he tries messing with him.

Izuku catches onto these shenanigans eventually, but the person that Steve may or may not be possessed by is trying to be subtle, and Izuku can be kinda oblivious sometimes (not to mention he’s always been interested in playing Minecraft and has read about Herobrine’s lore like, once, and since “Steve” never has white eyes he never really figures it out.)  He DOES catch onto his pseudo-villainous attitude and general dislike of “Players” though, and is suitably wary of him as a result.

… Izuku may or may not also figure out that at least part of the villainous attitude is because H just doesn’t understand people in general.  The dude’s a former computer virus who got into Minecraft and accidentally became a part of it.  There’s no way he knows about emotions in the same way that humans/villagers do.

Years pass in the game very quickly (I mean, dude, one Minecraft month is like, 10 hours.  The days are 20 minutes long, he’s in there for a VERY LONG TIME) and Izuku’s basically considered a hero by the villagers, something which makes him very happy because hey, it’s almost like he’s fulfilled his original dream, even if it’s not in a way he would have expected.  He’s also got some p good friends in other servers he dives into sometimes after visiting his mom, and of course, the H-possessed Steve who pops up sometimes. (His relationship with HIM is complicated.  Like, almost as complicated as his relationship with Bakugou was before he graduated into full-on bullyhood.  He considers the guy a tentative friend, though.)

Then a new patch comes out, complete with a “Removed Herobrine” line in the text, and things go to shit, because the MC game can affect the real MC world to an extent, but H is kinda there for good.  And he’s sick and tired of having his code/existence torn apart with every update, and oh would you look at that, there’s a player he can take the blame out on right there, along with entire cities of his villager friends.  

Cue a sudden war as the mobs in the world go crazy under his influence, and Izuku and his villager friends are suddenly in for a fight for their lives.  It’s practically a full-blown war, and it may or may not follow him to a server he retreats to to try to get some advice from his online friends (friendly reminder that at least a couple of them are Heroes or Hero students, and at least one of them is probably a villain.  He’s got a wide range of advice.)

Izuku does eventually figure out that at least part of the problem is that Herobrine is sick of being removed, and makes a deal with the guy – if he leaves people alone, then Izuku will find a way to contact the game developers and force them to stop removing him from the game.  H doesn’t accept this at first – but then Izuku leaves the game long enough to talk to his mom, and send the MC game developers an email explaining his quirk, and what’s going on, and can they please stop removing Herobrine from the game, even as a joke?  It’s hurting him every time they do this and he’s trying to take it out on Izuku and his friends.

… This actually works, to Izuku’s shock.  The game developers contact him about this whole thing for more details a couple IRL days later, and though they’re extremely uncomfortable with the fact that Herobrine exists, they’re also decent enough people that they don’t actually want to hurt someone, even if that someone is digital and only able to be talked to through Izuku’s quirk.

(Izuku tells H this the next time he sees the dude, and what the fuck, Herobrine wasn’t expecting the kid to be SERIOUS about this. He may or may not calm down a bit after that, and stop warring against Izuku and Co. though his relationship with the kid stays very firmly in the “complicated” category.)

This event, however, leads Izuku to realize that hey, the “real world” can still affect MC even if he lives there full-time, so he should probably stay in the real world so he can keep an eye out on the developers.  After all, he can still visit his friends in MC.

… may or may not include bonus content after the main story where Izuku starts recording what he does in MC for other people to see. Not sure.  But I kinda like the idea, so it might be a thing, just a post-canon thing.  It would also probably be excessively shenanigan-y, by complete accident, because it would be funny (and I DID say Izuku’s relationship w/ Herobrine would be complicated, right.  Yup, I did.  Couple of times.  Well, that’s VERY IMPORTANT okay.)

[purplesurveys]

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When was the last time you were snooping, and found something you wish you hadn’t? It was around a week or so ago, I’m pretty sure.

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What’s the funniest joke you know by heart? I know I’ve come across hilarious ones but I always fail to come up with one when asked on the spot.

When was the last time you felt you had a new lease on life? LOL RIGHT NOW

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What TV show character would it be the most fun to change places with for a week? Post-El Camino Jesse Pinkman. I wouldn’t want to live through his chaotic shit  from Breaking Bad, but his fate after El Camino is something I’m super envious of.

What was cool when you were young but isn’t cool now? Flip phones, Blackberry phones, Roshes, Frappuccinos.

If you were moving to another country, but could only pack one carry-on sized bag, what would you pack? Phone, laptop, their chargers, important IDs, some of my favorite tops and jeans, underwear, essential toiletries, wallet, a family photo, a journal and pen, earphones, certain knickknacks to remember Gab and my dogs by. Minus the clothes, all of these are pretty tiny so I think these would all fit in the bag just fine.

What’s the most ironic thing you’ve seen happen? I don’t know. I’m not really a fan of rating the most/worst this and that stuff in my life, either. I feel like I unnecessarily rack my brain too hard for them when I take surveys to have a chill time.

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If you were a ghost and could possess people, what would you make them do? No thanks. I’d be the chillest ghost tbh, I’d like to just sneak up on people’s business and hang out but never interfere in them.

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What character in a movie could have been great, but the actor they cast didn’t fit the role? As much as I love Kristen Stewart, I heard she was cast as Princess Diana for an upcoming film and I’m not really feeling that decision. They could’ve gone with a British actress for starters?????? The movie is still in production but it is pretty annoying to think about lmao.

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What’s the craziest conversation you’ve overheard? Omg one time at a coffee shop Gabie and I sat beside this older couple that obviously was going through some heavy SHIT. There was a lot of animosity and tension between them and I caught the lady silently break into tears a few times. I never overheard anything but then again they sat in silence for hours until the lady finally walked out on him. Never knew what it was about but I’ve always guessed that the man did something crappy, like cheat, and was discovered. It was a really sad sight and a crazy situation to witness and I think I felt even more sorry because they were obviously in their 50s or 60s. I hope the woman is in a better place now as she looked rough as fuck that evening.

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What artist or band do you always recommend when someone asks for a music recommendation? It depends on what music they’re into and if I have actually have a recommendation in mind for them. I obviously can’t suggest Paramore to someone who mainly listens to metal.

If you could have an all-expenses paid trip to see any famous world monument, which monument would you choose? I’m down for any monuments that are super ancient like Stonehenge or the Pyramids of Giza.

If animals could talk, which animal would be the most annoying? I’d go with frogs, but only because they get annoyingly loud in the evening.

What’s the most addicted to a game you’ve ever been? Playing The Sims, Mario Kart, Rock Band, or games in the Burnout franchise.

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Which protagonist from a book or movie would make the worst roommate? Not from a book or movie, but BoJack Horseman. Diane can also be in the running as I always found her too whiny. I get that she had her personal shit to deal with, but I don’t think living with her would be good for my own sanity and mental health.

Do you eat food that’s past its expiration date if it still smells and looks fine? It annoys my chef dad to death that I don’t lol. No matter how great it looks, I’d bounce. I once ate expired Kit Kats that tasted like cardboard and that scared me off of expired food forever.

What’s the most ridiculous thing you have bought? I once bought a stupid novelty soap that to this day I’ve never even opened. It’s in one of my drawers, and I plan to just throw it out at some point.

What’s the funniest comedy skit you’ve seen? Not a fan of these but one that got to me is Dear Sister from SNL.

What’s the most depressing meal you’ve eaten? A few years ago there was a local breakfast place that offered red velvet pancakes for a limited time and I was all over that crap, so I went and ordered. The actual pancakes ended up not being any bigger than my palm, and I remember not being able to hide my disappointment once the server placed the dish on my table haha. I felt so scammed. I had to order something else to feel full, because those pancakes were stupidly small.

What tips or tricks have you picked up from your job/jobs? One of my superiors, when she was presenting a pitch to our director yesterday, kept asking questions and picking at the director’s brain so that she can get suggestions and answers straight from the director herself and so that she didn’t have to do any brainstorming anymore. I thought that was a pretty nifty and clever hack.

What outdoor activity haven’t you tried, but would like to? Hiking a mountain!

What songs hit you with a wave of nostalgia every time you hear them? Umbrella by Rihanna feat. Jay-Z.

What’s the worst backhanded compliment you could give someone? Idk, anything can be the worst depending on the context. I’m not a fan of giving those, though.

What’s the most interesting documentary you’ve ever watched? Unsolved Mysteries’ Dupont de Ligonnès episode was a lot of fun to watch.

What was the last song you sang along to? I think it was Thinking of You by Katy Perry? but I’m not entirely sure. I haven’t sung along to anything in a while.

What app can you not believe someone hasn’t made yet? I don’t really download and use a lot of apps other than the basic ones, so I don’t care too much.

When was the last time you face palmed? Last night.

If you were given five million dollars to open a small museum, what kind of museum would you create? I’d give it away to the Martial Law museum currently being made near my university so that it can do more to show the atrocities of the Marcoses. And so that I can piss off my pro-Marcos relatives.

Which of your vices or bad habits would be the hardest to give up? Uh hating myself, if that counts.

What really needs to be modernized? Public transportation systems in this country.