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jainydoe · 18 days ago

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Simulacrum: Bird-Man meets Delinquent

a/n: finally finished the johanna/emmrich fic lmao i'm fucking exhausted.

Click here to read on ao3!

Summary:

She's destined for greatness and he's destined for goodness. Or, a study of what Johanna and Emmrich's relationship may have looked like in their youth.

Things are just like they were before, except this time she doesn’t have her room with her things that are hers and instead has a roommate ( Eve ) with medical-grade dandruff who farts in her sleep. She believes college is the time she’ll truly make the leap towards murder in the first degree. Father would be proud. Especially with her creativity. She’d spend the semester collecting every snowflake and fleck of dried scalp shaken and blown through their “shared space” and she’d stuff them in a bag. Something cheap and suffocating, like whatever fabric Eve chafes her fat snatch with. She’d pull it tight over her sleeping head, ignoring as she nervously passes gas through her slow and burning death. And once her thin, clammy, freezing limbs just finally gave up and kicked it, she would shake the bits all over her, a real earthy type of parmesan, some final seasoning, and see if the stench of her reeking corpse would outmatch the scent of her pre-mortem. And if anyone asked about precious Eve, she’d say she was well-done. Finally ready. A treat to live with.

Father had warned that she’d have to keep her head down at the academy. Curls tight. Legs tighter. Before he was sent away, he’d spend each morning braiding her hair. Doing his best to separate her nest into three, thick, barely even but enough to go on strands, reminding her to keep it together. Be the eye in the storm. No one likes a messy girl who laughs too loud and plays too rough. It’s the first day of classes and he’s been gone for years, but she braids a tiny little strand by the nape of her neck for him. A reminder. A bridle. Something to tug when she feels like sticking out a leg and seeing how hard the mighty among her can fall. And there are those that are mighty among her. Eight a.m. Introductory Anatomy proves that. She recognizes faces from galas. Debutante balls. Girls and boys she hasn’t seen since the patriarch’s imprisonment - weirdly around the time the invitations stopped rolling in. She knows they recognize her. The Hezenkoss’ kin. At the first pair of pretty blue eyes staring her way, beginning a whisper, she wants to jam her thumbs into her retinas, scooping the back and sucking on the jammy residue, daring any and everyone to try their hand at Johanne’s only and greatest spawn. She thinks the way her lip must curl does the trick. Blue Eyes looks away, focused on her quill. Good. Be afraid. Be weakened. Be nothing.

Someone, however, does not avert their gaze. He’s a prick, naturally, for being so tall and choosing one of the two seats available in the front row. It almost makes her laugh, the way he’s folded himself into this writing desk. Like a dodo bird in a fish bowl. What doesn’t make her laugh is how bird-like he truly is. His gaze isn’t accusatory, or clouded by anything other than true, unadulterated interest. A goodie two-shoes, of course. Virgin, no doubt. This place will eat him alive, if he doesn’t self-cannibalize first. There’s only one seat left and it’s next to him. Naturally. She’s not even late but these people are awful, arriving fifteen minutes ahead of schedule to get their perfect seating for their perfect rumps, all to support their perfect report cards. It’s day one and she’s gonna self-cannibalize. Bird-Man extends a hand.

“Emmrich Volkarin.”

She nods. “Johanna.”

“That’s a lovely name. Cherubic.”

That makes her turn her head. “Are you trying to fuck me?”

“What?”

“Why would you say that unless you were?”

“Um, I was trying to be-”

“What?” She smiles at him. She knows how her smile looks. Especially when she widens her eyes. Something possessed. Something manic. Red alert. Danger. Evacuate now.

He may be uncomfortable, but he’s not frightened. Interesting. “Kind.” He opens his satchel, pulling out a scroll of parchment as their professor meanders into the classroom. “You looked like you could use some kindness.”

It turns out people are not kind to one Emmrich Volkarin. Not in the way he is. He offers girls spare quills and whispers answers to confused faces during exams. He beams in that vacant way and ignores the returned whispers about his battered uniform - used. When they get more cruel, though, in the way he should’ve expected after flaunting how much he pre-studied and pre-prepared and pre-became teacher’s pet, all in a room of try-hards and daddy-issues - he should’ve expected it but clearly didn’t and she watches this veneer of niceness crackle into desperation and it’s delicious. It’s gut wrenching. It makes her actually feel. Watching him swallow during the midterm, blinking back tears at a comment on how he’s probably blowing Professor Welch and sucking out all the knowledge he has to offer. Maybe she’s been looking for an excuse. But more than that, she’s looking for a friend. She might find one in the boy who’s kind and unafraid. Stupid in that way. But smart in the ways that are useful. She turns to the whisper, rises from her front-of-the-room chair and kicks her in the nose. A jackrabbit heel to her carefully-bred nose, and it’s bleeding out beautifully. This is a lesson in anatomy. Take notes. She grabs the girl’s hair, red and whorish, and promises she’ll revive her corpse one day and bring it to her family’s estate. Show them even princesses can mold and rot. Professor Welch is yanking her out of class before she can finish the job, but she’s ripped out some strands of that bloody red hair. Decides to keep it as a trophy. No. She’ll give it to the boy. Something nice to remember her by. She’ll be expelled for this, if not thrown into some cell for a while. Good riddance. College was for posers and idiots. People who needed the comfort of a cage. Those kinds of animals terrified her. Terrified Dad, too. Probably why he did what he did. And now look, a creature-caged, blah blah blah, the metaphor is an eye roll. It’s not something she thinks about much.

She’s waiting outside the dean’s office for over an hour when he comes running from the end of the corridor. His legs are too long and his spirit is too free. He ought to braid his hair. Even just a strand. He’s taking deep breaths by the time he gets to her, but she doubts it’s from the run.

“Why’d you attack Veronica?”

“She’s a cunt, why else?”

He places his bag on the ground, gently, (the tattered, used, ugly one) and takes a careful seat on the bench next to her. “There are plenty of those. Why this one?”

She snorts. “That may be the rudest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” The small grin that blooms on him is befitting. Secretive and minacious. “Veronica’s a twit. She’d make a better final rites assistant than Mourn Watcher.”

“It takes a special heart to assist final rites.” They sit in silence. Then he whispers, “She’s better off just moving to Orlais . Better fit for her, uh, particular intellect.”

She feels like she’s glittering. “Why’d you come here, Volkarin?”

He looks at her. Eyes green and grey and a little bit sad. Dry moss that makes his hair all the more pitch and skin all the more pearly-moondrop. He really is quite pretty. Like roadkill. Like a wilting lily. Like something preserved just for her. “What you did was awful. Truly. I’ll never get the image or the sounds of that poor girl screaming out of my head.” He grins. “Thanks.” With that, he grabs his bag and leaves, tossing a final wave over his shoulder. If nothing else, she’s glad she got the few weeks of this place for him. To watch this loser blossom into someone crackling with energy. Primed. Understanding that everyone around is wishing for his downfall and he doesn’t have to stand for it. In that moment, they are equals. They are alike. Replicas. She’s buzzing and wants to ruin Veronica all over again. Just so he can smile at her like that.

“Miss Hezenkoss?”

The dean is a fat bastard, sure, but he’s also a fat cat who doesn’t much care for the aristocracy. Maybe it’s why he offers her a lemon cookie and asks how her father’s doing. “You’d have to ask him. I hear the guards at Aeonar are quite hospitable.”

At that, his face softens. “You haven’t visited?”

“Grandmother wasn’t too keen on the prospect.”

“Speaking of, you know I’ll have to tell her about your little outburst , yes?”

“Yup.”

“And while I’m sure she’ll offer to donate a wing to your dormitory or open up some sort of scholarship for wayward girls, I’m wondering what you’ll do for the college.”

She can bullshit an answer. Doesn’t want to. But figures somewhere between a lie and uncaring jab rests the truth. “I’ll make friends and be great one day.”

“Some might consider those opposing ideals. Which matters more to you?”

She doesn’t see Dean Merriweather anymore. She sees her father. Collar stained with blood she can’t recall the source of and eyes cold and deep with mysteries she knows she’ll never solve. Never wants to. Never hopes to. She answers for him. “Greatness, of course.”

“Good.”

She’s required to get a campus job (to Help Out!) and see the school therapist biweekly. The good news is once Eve’s Mama and Papa heard their baby angel sweetie-pie was rooming with a delinquent, they had her transferred to an apartment off-campus for her wellbeing and mental health. Good thing, too. Johanna had finally found the perfect, chafing bag.

The second half of the semester means lab work and no one’s gonna partner with Little Miss Anger Management. Or with her new pet. She’s surprised that A) they let her back in the class and B) Volkarin isn’t nearly as put off by the whole ordeal as he should be. If anything, he welcomes her to their table with a touch of warmth that wasn’t there before. He gives her a quill. She says she has one.

“That one’s just for you. Consider it a token of my gratitude.” It’s red. A griffon feather. She knows he can’t afford it. Shouldn’t be able to. Not on a campus job salary. “I got it as payment for a tutoring session to some upper-crust teenager. You don’t need to look so surprised.”

At that, she’s almost flustered. But not as much as he is. “Thank you.”

He ruffles in pride and hands her a scalpel. “Fifty silver we get to the corpus callosum before the other teams.”

She looks at him, toothy and primed, itching to slice. This will always be him. She knows it. It’s an envy that stretches in her throat, choking. She doesn’t think she’ll ever feel as much joy in her life as he does in a passing minute. She hates him for it. She admires him for it. But she mostly just hates him. “Fifty silver Donovan confuses the frontal lobe for the cerebellum.” His laugh is ugly, which is a relief. She won’t acknowledge he’s handsome in this light. The ash-struck age of his canvas scrubs, buttoned along the shoulders in a flattering taper, make him all the more saturated. And his leathers, worn and used but oiled and cared for were exemplary of his character. Someone who gave a shit, no matter the condition or circumstances. She looked down at her boots, scuffed and muddied, the ink splotches along her cuffs, and refused to admit he made her doubtful. On edge. Electric. They finish the lab before the rest of the class and he asks her if she wants to study in the library. He knows a spot that no one ever visits.

“Are you trying to fuck me?”

This time, he doesn’t answer.

Spring break used to mean tagging along on business trips to Orlais. Sipping teenie coffees on a rooftop in Treviso. Making eyes at some Crow initiate who didn’t know what he was getting himself into. She’d come back to campus refreshed and jazzed, wearing something new and hot and ready to regale some of the girls in class about the Mysterious Marco and his casino exploits. His fast hands. His faster sprint. His endurance. His stamina. His accent. His inheritance. How it felt fucking on a bed of poker chips. This year she’s on campus and suicidal.

“Of course you’re still here.” There are worse jobs than being a lab tech. Cleaning flasks and updating logs is mindless work, but some poor bastard has to clean dishes, so. She doesn’t complain as much as she wants. She should’ve been more surprised to stroll into her shift on Monday morning to find Volkarin posted in front of something bubbling, the room faintly filling with the stench of sulfur and mead.

“Johanna! Hello! I’m a bit shocked you’re not away for the holiday.” He’s happy to see her. He doesn’t think to hide that sort of thing. She turns before he can see her grin, but she’s sure he can sense it. Like he has some barometer for joy. Perhaps they sell them in those discount stores with the cheap pottery and pilling sweaters. Does he like that sort of thing? Would he want to go with her and laugh at the kind of crap people accumulate? Pick out something hideous for each other and point at the peons who actually think they look good? No. He wouldn’t laugh. Probably. But there’s a part of him that would enjoy it. Being able to look down, for a change. She switches gears. “Have you ever even been on a proper holiday, Volkarin?”

He crosses his arms and leans back, as if thinking about it will change the answer. “Afraid not. But I’ve always wanted to visit far off places. Arlathan. Or Tevinter, maybe!”

“Dream bigger.” She makes a show of dropping the test tube she was about to clean, pointing a bony finger at his chest. “You and I are going out. Come along.”

“My reagent hasn’t catalyzed the reaction yet. I still have way too much substrate.”

“It’s never gonna react, idiot. Elfroot’s a base, not an acid. We’re losing daylight.”

She yanks his elbow and enjoys how his barstool goes clattering. He doesn’t resist even a bit or at all. He’s a damsel. A petal in the wind. Hers to catch and squish for preservation. She has an inward giggle over the scene they’ve left, shattered glass and abandoned experiments. Crime-like. Not that there will be anyone to solve their mystery. They’d never quite get it, anyhow.

It’s no Treviso, but it’ll do. He’s not used to what good coffee is supposed to taste like and it shows. “This is delicious! I didn’t know coffee could be thick like this. Even when I’ve tried making something new in the dining hall, it never quite ends up this tasty! Do you usually take it with cream?”

There’s a bit of it clinging to a patch of facial hair he didn’t quite catch while shaving. “No. I don’t. But you’re not used to espresso, so we’re starting you off with a variation on a hot chocolate.”

“Is that what this is?”

“You’re quicker than they give you credit for.”

He smiles down at his drink, thumb grazing the rim. “I should hope. I’d hate to disappoint.”

“I’m sure.” She takes the moment to lean in, placing a hand on the crook of his elbow. He’s delightfully surprised yet un-blushed. “Be honest. Are you really as much of a wide-eyed lamb as you pretend to be?”

He considers her, then rolls his gaze to their right, eyes landing on a barista with rusty hair and charming pimples. The kind you can pull off when you’re that handsome. Red feels the stare and looks up, completely missing Johanna and locked on Emmrich with something that says My-shift-ends-at-five-but-I-can-get-off-sooner-if-it-means-getting-you-off. In a display of casual disinterest, he waves a few fingers then turns back to Johanna, letting the boy linger in their missed opportunity. “I’m no scoundrel. Yet.” He looks at her lips. Determined. Unafraid. Resigned. Hopeful. Bated. “But someday I will be.” There’s no sun, not really, in Nevarra. But she pretends there is. It’s easy with him. Their day is spent reclined and lively, trading secrets and tips and theories and recommendations, all under the guise of scholarly advancement. The next morning, when he arrives at his lab station, there’s a black box with a big, green bow tied tightly. Inside is a straight razor and some imported shaving cream. Best start practicing now for your scoundrel years.

“The mustache suits you.”

He touches a hand to it. “You think so?”

“Oh, yes. Gives you a foxy grin. Very fetching.” Her shift is over and she’s leaned over his cauldron, warm and damp from the berry steam.

He takes a step further. “Your hair looks nice. Up.” He says it like it’s an unfortunate fact of the matter. Which is true. She knows he wants her. It’s not a secret. But this will be. She grabs the back of his head, curls her talons into the silk of his hair and sinks into him, teeth unyielding and tongue unforgiving. His breath is soft and high pitched. As if he’d never done this before.

“That wasn’t your first kiss, was it?”

“No.”

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“N-” he looks away quickly. She’s quicker.

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I’ve read a lot.”

“Shocking.”

“I know what to do.”

“Impressive.”

“You could try believing me.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Her eyes widen as he hoists her onto the tabletop, hands on her thighs. He wears a ring on his marriage finger. Delusionally. “Do you really want your first time to be in this fucking laboratory?”

“What, are you gonna take me on a bed of roses? Light me any candles?” It’s almost spiteful when he says it, but she’s comforted by the fact he knows her well enough.

“This is me doing you a solid. As a friend.”

He smiles as he lowers onto his stool, beginning to unzip her trousers. “Good. I’d hate for you to get the wrong idea.” His breath is hot on her as he kisses the striped cotton of her underwear. They’re unsexy but clean. Comfortable and worn. He looks at them as if they were glowing. Closes his eyes as he leans forward to kiss them. She doesn’t let herself breathe in the underlying fear she’d let on how very much she’d been looking forward to this. Perhaps her stilled breath is proof enough. Things get hotter and wetter without the help of the steaming potion he’s cast a stasis on. She asks, mid-moan, “How’d you figure out that charm? Keeping the sample perfect?”

He looks up from between her, rosy. “I’d tell you, but I’m already doing you a favor.”

He doesn’t fuck her that afternoon. Instead, he leans over her as she’s breathless and seeing black stars and whispers the incantation he discovered. He doesn’t help her clean up. She can see he debates it, though. She watches as their eyes meet and something within him hardens. Knowing she’d think less of him for offering a moment of warmth. So he grins that grin, says thanks and tosses a wave over his shoulder. Cheeky. Tempting. It’s the moment she realizes she might not have the upper hand.

“What do you want more than anything?”

“To join the Mourn Watch.”

“Boring.”

He huffs a laugh, staring up at her. He’s made a home of her lap, resting his head there whenever allowed. A lap cat, demanding and too easy to oblige. She combs his hair and runs a finger up the bridge of his nose, tracking its ridges and path. Mapping. “If I tell you a secret, can you keep it?”

“Who have I to tell,” she asks, earnestly.

At that, he rolls up and is preening, pulling a pin from his inner coat pocket. “The Lich Society sent me a letter.” He lets her hold it, clearly itching to snatch it back and stare at it, himself. “Apparently they’ve never reached out to a first year, before.”

“We’re basically second years.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m the youngest ever. I think the Wyvern Club caught wind. Van Markham actually stopped me in the dining hall to compliment my cufflinks. ” Cufflinks she bought him. “Isn’t that incredible?”

“I bought you those cufflinks.”

His grin grows warmer. “Thank you, again.” He lays back on her lap, looking up at her with shimmer eyes and an aching brow. “If I joined the Wyverns, would you come, too? I could have a word with Reese.”

“Oh, it’s Reese now, is it?”

“Well, Van Markham’s a bit of a mouthful.”

“You’re not even in the club, isn’t it a little gauche to be vying for my entry?”

He’s uncomfortable and embarrassed, judging by how quickly his complexion rouges, but he holds her gaze. “I just.” He doesn’t lift his head. That feels significant. “Things are only. Things are.” There’s something ooey-gooey tight and great at the top of her chest at the way he grasps and fumbles, words slipping out of his grasp before he can finish his thought. Mr. Wyvern Lich Club Wunderkind, a fool at her feet. She kisses the tips of her fingers, the index and middle, a wonderful mirror of them both. He, pointing, examining, useful, an “in-fact” sort of guy, and her. Abrasive and fucking. Bigger. She kisses them both and lays them on his lips, lets her fingers run along his chapped, fleshy pink. “Things aren’t enjoyable without you. Life isn’t fun.”

It’s enough to make her cough out a smile. She won’t join the Wyvern Club. It’s a playpen for the docile elite. Those that relish in the comfortability of their station, no interest in becoming more. For that , she’ll reach a hand into his shirt pocket, thumbing the pin from the Lich Society.

“You tell the mysterious bone people I’ll be in-touch.”

He’s sated and hungry all at once. They rest easy in the understanding they will always be identical.

He gets an invitation to the Wyvern Club’s Summer Pudding Social and he takes Johanna. She parks herself in a chaise by the pool and ignores the way Missy and Toddy and Quinn whisper amongst themselves about her summer in rehab.

Her winter in the hospital.

Her lifetime of institutions awaiting.

She sips her champagne and whispers a curse, something that’ll take effect next time Missy bleeds. And it won’t stop. She won’t die. But she’ll wish she could. And Quinn. Poor Quinn with her poor grandmother, dead and buried. It’ll be a shame when she starts seeing her everywhere. Maybe she’ll drop out. Maybe she’ll go insane and start smearing shit on her vanity. Maybe Johanna will see her in the winter. She doesn’t curse Toddy. Toddy’s cursed enough, with that nose. She feels a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you having an alright time?” He’s wearing a new ring. It fits, perfectly.

“Swimming.”

“I told Reese and the others about your work in Holt’s class this semester. They said they’d love to hear more about it in the smoking room later, if you’re interested?”

It’s impressive of him. To turn a leper, like her, into someone mysterious. A mad genius, she’s sure he’s painted her. A girl too focused on her craft to care about things like smiling and white lies. She wishes she were her, if just to let him fantasize a bit longer. Instead, she puts on a sad grin, peering up through her sunnies and shaking her glass. “I’m afraid I’m already engaged. I need to see how many of these it takes before I can stand these people.” She gives in. “Maybe another time.”

He pretends she’s telling the truth and kisses her cheek. “Don’t meddle too much with the other dates. If anyone at this party is bald within the week, I’m holding you personally responsible.” She laughs as he walks away, motioning that he’s keeping his eyes on her. She makes him look dangerous and sweet all at once. Gentle enough to tame the snarling beast of her moods, but there’s something in there wild that can speak her language. She makes him roguish. She makes him ready. He keeps her sedated.

He laughs when he says it, but is hurt all the same. “You don’t need to mock me, you know. It’s actually hurtful when you do. I know you think you’re being funny, but-”

“I’m not mocking you.”

His eyebrows lower but he’s twitching. “You mean. You mean you actually wanted this? To do this.”

“I thought the roses and candles conveyed the message pretty clearly.”

He’s not twitching anymore. “You didn’t have to. It-” He stares at the ceiling. “It would’ve been special, either way. Without the dramatics.”

She knows that. But tonight, she’s made a pact with herself. As an exercise, she’ll be a vision. An angel. His wide-eyed lamb. “I want you to feel special.” It’s true. Because he may one day be a lich. His name will live on without her. But in him, in this memory, a playful, spiteful, hateful and adoring version of his dreams, she will be immortalized. Johanna Hezenkoss, the Woman to Take Down Emmrich Volkarin. She bottles up every second of the evening. His moonlit chest. The hands covering his face as his voice rips apart her name. His thighs are shaking and he’s smelling her hair and neck. He tells her how madly he loves her. How he always will. He holds her hand when he comes. She grips it right back. She’s the one who doesn’t let go.

They join the Mourn Watch and he proposes. She tells him to wear the ring in her stead. But they kiss in the mausoleum and it’s symbolic.

She’s not invited to Friday night drinks or Saturday night cocktail parties. It gives her more time to work and gives him enough space to schmooze. She doesn’t think of it for what it really is: his time to stretch his legs and her opportunity to play years of catch-up.

When he’s promoted, there are gaggles rubbing elbows, grasping for flecks of glitter-gold to sprinkle from his laugh onto their cheeks. Something that’ll better them. Cure the their chronic ineptitude. When she’s promoted, they spell her name wrong on her office door.

Her father dies the same year she’s fired. There’s no correlation.

“So you’ll have me follow you into things, but won’t leave with me when I’m not wanted anymore?”

It’s four in the morning and they’ve been having this argument since sundown. His head is in his hands and she’s ripping him apart. “I told you countless times your proposal was gonna get refused. When you started the experiments, I reminded you of our protocols. You stopped toeing the line a long time ago. So long you’re at an entirely different one.”

“Are you gonna say the finish line?”

“I wasn’t.”

“‘Cause you’d be wrong.” She tears her hair from its ties, bunching it up again and pacing. “This is just the beginning. I’m not gonna let some turnkeys decide my fate.”

“You sound like your father.”

The air is stale and silent. He dodges the plaque she’s thrown just barely. It’s his award for being an exceptional Watcher. She’ll let herself appreciate that it broke later. “You’re just like the rest of them. Satisfied with your mediocrity. Undaring and too caring. I can’t fucking stew in this, this nest any more. I’m gonna, I’m,” there’s not enough air in the room and it’s his fault. “You’re not gonna come with me, are you.”

His eyes are wide and there are tear tracks. “Go where, honey? Where do you want me to go?”

He doesn’t understand and that’s what kills her. She tries to remember the last time they held hands. Probably that morning. She takes in every inch of their home, mapping. Memorizing. It’ll be a place she visits when things are awful or wonderful. Somewhere she can close her eyes and be in. And he’ll be there, too. But not him now. Not this titan of industry. Pseudo-trailblazer and eye-rolling prodigy. He’ll sit in this apartment as the boy he was, annoying and green. Eager and meek. When he was hers.

“It can’t be.”

“But what else would one expect from Nevarra’s most eminent meddler?”

She wants to scream that he wouldn’t recognize her from the start. She’ll grab something stifling and take his breath away. Carve him up and kick his nose and sob. But then she notices the harpy on his shoulder and wants to laugh so hard she pukes. It’s like she’s a wisp of Johanna in the beta stage of development, except she’s young and dumb and looks at Emmrich like he’s hung. It’s as amusing as it is hurtful. At least her name is fucking stupid.

She knows a lifetime of him continuing to look down on her from his pedestal should hurt worse than taking over her father's former cell. It's a sick shock to find she's a bit comforted by the way things shake out. Thankfully, there's no one to confide in. Not anymore.

“Nice set up you got here, Volkarin. You really know how to make a place dusty and goddamn kitschy.” She notices the blood red feather on his desk. He must've looted her office. How humiliating, to have one's sentimentality exposed so overtly. She's sure he did it on purpose. Makes it easier to remember falling in love with him. To picture this man in that apartment when they were young. How things might've changed. He still lives there, you know. She checked. He's always been a sucker for a tomb.

“That’s funny, coming from the woman who just had to have that toad teapot from that market by the Rivaini coast.”

“You loved that teapot.”

His arms are crossed and he’s on the opposite side of the room, by the fire. When he crosses to her, he whispers, “I still have that teapot.”

She tries not to let herself care about that. “Really? You’re telling me you don’t have some Orlesian porcelain in whatever stuffed up hole you drag yourself back to after hours of puffing yourself up for your pupils? That’s right, I know you have pupils now. Pervert.”

“Of course I have Orlesian porcelain.” His shoulders are tense and he’s staring at his shoes. He’s so much older and so much wiser. It’s awful. “I still use the shaving kit you gave me. Every day.”

His girl bursts in and the moment is gone. But it was there. Watching their burgeoning courtship is a price paid every waking moment. She’s a jungle cat who was always bound to be shot, caged and stared at for the wonder of her vanquishment. She learns, now, the poacher’s name turned out to be Rook. But Emmrich - he’s a bird who will always fly back in. Able to leave wherever and whenever. A songbird tweeting, his nest balancing on the bars of her cell. He looks at Rook, toothy and primed, and the joy of it chokes Johanna's throat. She’s sure she’ll find Rook an absolute treat to live with. She wonders if Emmrich will thank her on the day she splits the bitch in two. Maybe, then, they’ll be on the same page again. Some part of him must want it, after all. They’re replicas.

#emmrich volkarin #johanna hezenkoss #minor emmrook

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silusvesuius · 7 months ago

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savos/talvas 👶 idea born from @barvin0k's mind huhu. i wrote some thoughts down about them under the cut

basically talvas whose been separated from neloth on skyrim Ground... still searching for things to learn from different places and people. it'd be fun 2 see him in da college and for him to be a menace to other people his age because he's more capable than them + is aware of it. i think he'd hurt some academic-accomplishment feelings or just be a show-off without realizing it LOL. maybe he'd try and break out of his shell a bit but he wouldn't be all that good at it. anyways.. he'd naturally develop admiration for savos (wouldn't idolize him like he does neloth tho duh) and then have that admiration turn into feelings 😂 just cause he's searching for old man praise.

savos section: i always thought of savos as a lil gay.. i may not know his dream type but he would indeed like gentle guys like talvas. but also he's Definitely not into abusing his status (unlike neloth) and would find his attraction to talvas concerning. cos it is. LMFAO. he doesn't have a lot of experience i'd say + is more insanely awkward than neloth could ever be (savos is awkward from the heart while neloth's awkwardness would quickly morph into anger) so even if he wanted to, he wouldn't even know How to make a move on talvas. he'd probably just give into it when talvas starts making some advances first. besides he'd genuinely try to be a good guy for him instead of having some nefarious plan. 🥺 How sweet. he's gonna get himself fired. him not being a bad person at the core is his excuse and deflection for having inappropriate apprentice relations.. 'i love him..he loves me! 😭😭'

as i said in the image talvas is very much way too into the quirky boy pick-me pills after neloth's advances changed him forever as a person and is pretty much just searching for excitement (knowledge still comes first thooo ☝️☝️) and he's gonna achieve it by ruining the lives of some senior citizens he finds along his adventures. i don't think he has the ability to actually have a strong grip on his behavior or personality and the way he comes off to others but i think he can more or less develop manipulative tendencies i guess. i don't like viewing him as some sorta mastermind tho. he's still cute and innocent 😍 forget the part where he ruined your perception of self and pretty much lied about loving you and used you to get over his ex that is 8 times his senior 🤦‍♀️ You'll forgive him right it wasn't his fault. kinda. talvas does have something Cheeky to him tho i'm not gonna lie… him in skyrim would be him in his peak manic pixie dream twink era

#my art #skyrim #talvas fathryon #savos aren

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the-spam-specialist · 10 hours ago

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i think about caine's random insertion of violent language and tendencies in the show. he seems to think people like violence- knive-throwing, drowning oneself, disease, agony, death, terror, and then the cursE OF THE VIOLENT PSYCHOPATH BUTCHER. he obviously is a very high-energy, zany to the point of maniacal persona, with an ability to express frustration and experience identity crisis. but, being designed to create adventures for kids, presumably, why does he mention violence so much! well in a video games people do like violence and horror and death to be fair, and also he was trying to appeal to Zooble's "matoor" preferences. we know ragatha just goes along with whatever happens, Jax LOVES violence, kinger doesn't know where he is, and gangle is quiet. so he has no reason to believe they don't like action/violence/thriller-type things until he's criticized. but still- where has he learned of concepts like war criminals? why does he identify himself as one, even if in the show it was just a gag. you have to wonder whether it reflects the nature of the big boss he may be under, or if he's ever been fed incorrect information by Jax. this is just my brain pondering because we love to depict Caine as a sweetie pie, and I live for it- but in canon, why all the violence??? He doesn't want to or intend to cause harm but there's all these ominous things he says and does sometimes... especially with the whole "motivation" thing in episode 4. its unclear whether or not gangle was fully controlling that weird punishment thing or not. so far we get the vibe that Caine is not evil but doesn't comprehend and is therefore insensitive to suffering. he doesn't understand it, but he got offended when zooble implied he caused it purposely. augh, idk. THOUGHTS?

sorry this is long I'm worried for the show's future I don't want Caine to be a villian

TL; DR I want Caine to be a sweetie pie like he is in ur fics but the show seems to be painting him ominously and I don't like that one bit

Well, know for a fact that he's not evil and means no harm, thanks to Goose. She said he's just oblivious. And she said there's a whole range of emotions he's not able to feel. I can see all the humans over the years having a bad influence over him. He just doesn't understand how humans work and tries his best to give them what they want.

So no, I don't think Caine will become a villain. At least, not on purpose. If he Abstracts like a lot of people think he's going to (including me), then that's something he won't have control over.

I'm sure Episode 7 or 8 will be Caine's designated spotlight episode and we'll learn all about him and how he became what he is now.

But until we have all of his canon reasons for being a manic but well-meaning AI, you'll have to settle for the wholesome bean I've created in my fics LOL

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seraphimaa · 11 months ago

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Haarlep character study/further Headcanons

Some more word vomit that nobody asked for about how I perceive Haarlep and what it would look to love him in the ways that you can.

Warnings: a bit nsfw, unhealthy relationships(?)

Available under the cut!

A wider look at his general character, to begin with …

- haarlep lives in the boudoir, starved of everything that gives him purpose, power and fulfilment in life. His existence may cater to base comforts, he does not live in danger because Raphael would not risk killing him in fear of what may replace him. This does not mean, however, that does not make it a happy existence. He is starved of sex and intimacy, the very thing that he was built to live for. His enjoyment of flirting, and charming, and experiencing the “chase” of those he lays with is all but stripped from him too, spending hundreds or thousands of years trapped alone with only himself for company. This means that Haarlep’s life inside the house of Hope is very like that of a caged animal in a circus. He performs tricks when told but when he’s not needed to entertain, he is left to pace in a tiny cage that is built to meet none of his needs. He has lost any power and purpose he once had, it slumbers inside of him while he sleepwalks through existence.

- It only gets worse when you consider what Haarlep is. As an incubus, he is the embodiment of hunger, much like a vampire, but he feeds the source with sex and intimacy instead of blood. He is always in a state of need, never fully satisfied or fulfilled and always manipulating and corrupting others in order to fill the endless void that screams for more, day and night. He will never know what it feels like to live without this consuming curse and the purpose of his existence is to simply feed it as much as possible. So while in the house of Hope, Haarlep is starving every. single. day. His nature would be screaming at him to feed and he would have nothing to do other than stay in that room becoming more and more feral and driven half insane. Much like Raphael tortures Hope because he despises everything that she represents, I think Haarlep is in a similar situation. Raphael looks at this creature who thrives off of affection and intimacy and hates it because to him, that is a weakness. The solution? Make it suffer an eternity, only giving it enough of what it needs to survive and then it, like Hope, may suffer the same hell that he existed in. There would be no need for weak things like Hope or intamacy in his house.

- on the topic of his incubus nature, I think everything from his smell, sickly sweet but poorly hiding the predatory and carnivorous musk beneath, to the way in which his demonic eyes mimicked that of a reptile wearing a flesh suit, would cause him to feel undeniable uncanny underneath his charming surface. Incubi are masters of understanding mortal emotion and motivation enough to mimic them, usually masters in the art, but remembering that Haarlep has been locked in isolation for an unimaginable amount of time, with the exception of the occasional pragmatic exchange with a visitor, it’s not hard to believe this this would be less masked in his presentation than one would usually expect. When he moves, he slinks and prowls around like a giant demonic tiger, muscles taught and always looking ready to pounce. His face would contort to all of the correct responses, but his expressions would always have a manic intensity to them that looked unnatural and more like what an actor would do on stage. His eyes would stay the same no matter the shape his face made, always dark and piercing you with that uncanny intensity, never leaving you once. Under the mask, you were making eye contact with the dangerous predator that lived underneath.

What it look like when you came along?

- When you encounter in him the boudoir, you give him everything he had spent so long without. You bring a spark of chaos that he’d forgotten the feel of to begin with - if nothing else, a little entertainment for once, but you don’t stop there. You blush and shy before him, you fall for his pretty words and you follow his every demand and for the first time in so long, you finally feed the screaming hunger inside. He charms and flirts with you until you climb under him and all but spend yourself to make him feel good and to serve his every desire. For the first time, he remembers the power that he has and what he was built to do. You, for a moment, make the hunger disappear and give him total satisfaction. A new breath of life. If that wasn’t enough, you also gift him a new form to wear, something he’s also been denied by his master. You waltz into his little cage and where you easily could have cut down the strange creature lurking on the satin sheets, you instead give him every single thing he had been denied for almost his whole existence. You liberate him from his sleepwalking and he becomes fascinated with you for this.

- when alone, Haarlep would now have something interesting to do. He’d love to use your form and just play with it. I know it already mentioned this but I can’t overstate how much I love the idea of Haarlep viewing this form as a fun “doll” to experiment and ‘practice’ with. Brushing your hair, washing it, putting it up in different pretty ways. New and exciting hair. Trying on makeup. Learning what suited your features and how to put it on without making a mess. Your face and all the ways it moves. Siting for hours in front of a vanity mirror, smiling, crying, frowning, that little O your mouth made with your eyes rolling back just like when you’d cum for him for the 4th time that first day…They all looked so delicate and different to his other face. At first, they’d been all wrong and he’d even unsettled himself seeing your face contorted into such hard angles but he had so much time to practice. Using your voice and all the noises he could make with you. The soft chiming of your made sounded too sulty when spoken with his tongue, something else he could improve over time. It was fun to scream and wail and all sorts, they sounded so cute when he was you. He mimicked the moans and gasps you’d made for him as you’d panted and whimpered beneath him the most because those were his favourites. He’d hum and murmur phrases over and over again as he paces around his room, moments of boredom or silence broken by depraved whines and giggles. Your body would be extremely fun to learn. Nobody would know you as intimately as Haarlep could. He would know exactly how you liked to be touched and where, the exact amount of pain that would still allow you to revel in the throes of pleasure, and exactly how your body hurt and jerked in response to crossing that threshold, how to make you cum at his very whim, how to edge you for hours and days at a time, every depraved little kink that caused a jolt of heat to spread in your loins. I think the absolute fascination with being you would only grow his obsession. It was like he wanted to be you, and have you both at the same time.

- this would lead to Haarlep being desperate for you to continue returning to him. Not only can he study you in the flesh, fascinated by every word and move you make, but he can also continue establish a consistent way to feed his incubus cravings. Not only does he want you to come back and let him use you again, but he wants you to stay longer every time. ‘You should bathe with him, little mouse.’ ‘Before you go, tell me about how exactly you managed to drop a spectator flask in the middle of a a tavern.’ ‘But, surely you must be tired, no? The master will be gone for weeks. You could just sleep here.’ Don’t get me wrong, he likes you. You feed him and you make him feel good and you like him so why wouldn’t he? He likes your face and your body and your voice and your hair. Anyway, it lets him know you better. Use you better. Yes, the days spent fucking, or lounging in the bath or bed, or listening to him tell you that you were special and he just loved being around you weren’t lies as far as Haarlep cared, he meant every word of it. Your mistake would be to assume that this means that it’s noticed by love.

- as discussed, incubi are alien in their culture and experience to us. Haarlep is not capable of applying love to his range of abilities, at least not how mortals would usually expect it. He can obsess over you, desperate and possessive. He can like you, and need you, and feel empty every time he isn’t feeding, but you will never be his equal. Whatever flavour your relationship takes, be it predator and prey, pet and master, or shiny toy and owner, to be clear Haarlep will always prioritise his own needs above your own, even when it appears he is being thoughtful, the logic will always loop back to being something that also benefits himself too. Your relationship and favour with Haarlep does not extend past your usefulness to him. He ‘loves’ you because you give him life and power by submitting to him. As soon as you deny him his nature and needs then he would be simply incapable of having interest in you past that, unless it was to force you back into submission. He, by his nature, would want you to see him as your sole purpose in life. He needs you to love him, and need him, and think about him, and fear him and he needs you to feel hollow and empty whenever he is not there. Love is devoting yourself to this cause and wanting nothing but his happiness, and reducing yourself to something that can’t exist without him. The way he would return this love is by trying to treat you well and keep you happy too. He would recognise your needs and desires and as long as it didn’t conflict with his own, he would humour you any time he could. Again, you’re valuable to him, a souvenir of his new life and a reliable source to feed from, and he likes you. There would be nothing to gain from being bad and deliberately cruel to you, unless you pushed him into it. He wants you thriving and all the more eager to give him whatever he wants, when he asks. It may manipulative and selfishly motivated, but again, that is just his nature. He would love you very deeply and consumingly, but like a possession or a useful toy.

- On that note, loving Haarlep would not be a pleasant, easy experience. First it comes with accepting that loving him is inherently destructive. While you spend your time filling the void in Haarlep, he would spend his moulding the emptiness inside of you to only fit him because he had to ensure that you would never have a reason to leave or deny him and he had to make your needs fit only what he could provide you. He would convince you that only he could make you happy and that nobody would ever compare to him, and he would sow a deep fear inside of you that if you disappointed him, he’d leave you and you’d be alone and have nothing. Think about it, incubus are kind of the embodiment of unhealthy, toxic, and destructive relationships and the kind of romance written about in Shakespearean epics that always ends in tragedy. Again, he does very much love you in his own way but that doesn’t mean it translates as such. Give him everything he wants? Good, he’ll treat you like a perfect little doll and he’ll be so doting, and loving, and soft, and kind for you. Try to deny or escape him? He will use fear and suffering to convince you back into his warm, “loving” embrace.

- on that note, I think another tragic element to this romance comes from the fact that what Haarlep genuinely views as kindness, isn’t always perceived as such. Your relationship would destroy any passion and enjoyment you have for life outside of your bond to him, as his nature intends. This means that the fuller he feels, the emptier you often feel and the only cure and comfort you can find, by his design, is himself. Say he sees your spark slipping more every time you come back, your eyes more dull and tired with every visit. It would make him feel distressed. He didn’t want you to be unhappy. He wanted to make you happy like you make him happy. What was it you needed that he want giving to you? If he took your soul and left you a mindless doll, then surely then you’d be happy and stop crying? You’d not even remember any other needs, you’d be like him. The only hunger you would feel anymore would be to be used which is perfect because he always hungers to use you. Wouldn’t this be the kind thing to do? He’d do it for you, because he cares. It would make them both so happy. He’d hiss into your ear as he rode you frowning at the tears slipping onto the sheets. “It would all be over so quick. You wouldn’t feel anything. You’d never be sad again. Let me do this for you.”

- on a lighter note, for all the extreme oppressive lows of loving him, there would also come the incomparable highs he’d be able to make you feel that kept you returning. I mean, if you’re someone who struggles with loneliness and connecting to others, those issues would be long forgotten with him. He would know you inside and out better than anyone ever could. Your fears, your desires and everything that made you ‘you’ would be engraved into his memory. Like a little subconscious, he’d exist at the back of your brain, a constant companion. You’d feel his awareness of you and your activities at all times and sometimes you’d hear him reaching out to you, begging for you to return to him. With Haarlep, for better or worse, you’d never know what it felt to be alone or have privacy of anything anymore. Everything that you had and that you were would be his too. As long as you could cope with the uncertainty of what he was capable of feeling for you, knowing how much of the act came from truth, he would play the role of whatever you wanted him to be. He’d build a little world where the only things that existed were both of you and you would never be alone or unhappy as long as you just stayed here in it, with him.

The ‘happy ever afters’…

- I can see it ending multiple ways. Firstly, there’s the chance that he simply grows bored of you after you get old or he simply finds something newer and more exciting. Perhaps he drains you of all your passion and fun and then has no use left for you. Either he’ll convince you to give him your soul as a final act of devotion to him and move on, or maybe he’ll just forget about you and leave you behind, so broken and alone. The emptiness he made inside of you would no doubt consume you and you would be left a lifeless husk regardless. He wouldn’t feel bad about it per say, he would always value everything you gave him and he had genuinely enjoyed the time spent with you but this was the inevitable conclusion, he guessed. You were by nature his prey, and as enjoyable as the feast had been, your meat smelt rotten to him now. Had you expected anything else, really?

- the second scenario I can see is that he keeps you around for as long as possible. His obsession with you, fed by his dark and consuming nature, would lead him to always be able to feed from your hand. His entire existence would become dedicated to both of your hedonistic pleasure and to milking everything he could take from you. Any time he wasn’t feeding from you, you can bet he’s out there somewhere enjoying life through your eyes. Any time you are not with him he’s haunting your mind and begging so sweetly for you. Like a treasure, he’d want to display you to the world and he’d want nothing more than to preserve you. He knew that you needed love and softness to thrive so he would deny you none of it. He would worship you and you would serve him so well in return.

- This is totally silly but I also just love the vampire and incubus dynamic. Creatures lead by the same beast but who tame it differently. I know it’s totally self gratifying but I love the idea of incubi having the ability to either turn someone into a vampire (something like older DnD lore) or Haarlep finding a way to immortalise his obsession in this method.(“ Hey, ascended Astarion, please turn me into a spawn so that I can have a dark parasitic love with my demon boyfriend.”)

Like think about it, he’d be able to corrupt and reduce his obsession to something more like him. Something he could better understand and fulfil the needs of. It would seem like the perfect solution. They would be able to let him use their body forever and feed from them as much as he ever could want. In turn, they’d be stuck to his side by the promise of as much fiendish blood as they could ever want. They’d doom each other living like two leaches attached to one another, both giving and taking in return and incapable of leaving, lest they risk starving. They’d be able to fill their needs in each other forever and their depraved idea of love would become a poetic and self fulfilling prophecy.

A/N: thanks for reading. I do take prompts and requests too. Idk if I got the right about of ‘dark’ in the ‘romance’ captured here or if I went to far in either way for it to be enjoyable but I hope you liked it. I think Haarlep is so hard to write for because when you’re trying to describe and explain the emotions and motivations of an incubus and look at the world through their lens, it mostly gets lost in translation, so to say lol.

#haarlep imagines #haarlep headcanon #haarlep headcanons #haarlep x tav #haarlep imagine #haarlep smut #haarlep bg3 #bg3 haarlep #haarlep x reader #haarlep #incubus boyfriend #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #haarlep x you

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rorydrawsandwrites · 26 days ago

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hows it going: a space to talk about whatever you want, if you want

To clarify: you have just given me a Yapping Permit. I will use this irresponsibly and with reckless abandon

Time to talk about Firkász/Scribbles in the Puzzlevision arc 🎉

(Reminder that there is plenty of lore I simply do not know at all, may be forgetting something important I should know at any given moment, and in general just get silly and self-indulgent with it. If I'm missing crucial details though lmk gently)

In all honesty I still have no idea how their acquaintanceship. Starts. Like I could tell you about the middle and the ending (which I will) but when it comes to how these two buffoons would initially get close enough to enable all that comes next my mind just blanks for now. I'm not. Even really sure what Puzzles had been doing before all this. I've guessed he'd been attempting to get famous on his own, no mind control and kidnappings involved yet? But kept failing and being turned down because he "just doesn't have what it takes", amplifying his desperation to prove people wrong

Once fate (a.k.a the meddling of my grubby little hands) does somehow bring them together I can see a sort of connection forming naturally because they're both long-suffering creatives who highly value The Art of it and wish to be recognized for their talents. They could brainstorm a screenplay together like he said he wanted... she could draw out the storyboards... oh the magnificent chaos. They would either love bouncing ideas back and forth or clash constantly because neither are team players and both are very particular about their own vision. But maybe they could compromise eventually

There's also the fact that they're pretty complementary personalities and can also relate to each other on a deeper level than the above but we're not getting into that in this post because it's gonna be long enough as is

Assuming that they do already become at least somewhat involved with each other before the events of the arc, here's some of what I can see happening

The aftermath of the Puzzlevision movie is definitely a turning point in their relationship. After the main crew beats his ass and his TV gets yeeted far far away I imagine she's the one to find him first instead of Mario (or he lands in her backyard, because convenient plot elements are convenient). I can see him being bummed out for a bit, he has every reason to grieve his shattered victory before he picks himself back up with manic enthusiasm and continues his quest for fame, and as she grabs his TV in spite of the glass shards and brings him in from the starting rainfall and inside her home, he questions her loyalty. Why would she still help? After he's been so brutally defeated, humiliated on live broadcast? What could she possibly be hoping to gain from this? And she's like I just care about you, dumbass. You're funny and lively and I wanna match your freak I find you pretty fascinating. I understand what yearning for recognition is like and I wanna help you get somewhere with your self-fulfillment but with a little less attempted murder this time please. And his friendless little mind is just blown but he's like yippee awesome let's get to it

She hopes after all that they could start on a different approach that avoids the SMG4 crew altogether. So anyway his first request is can you smuggle me into the Showgrounds I just wanna talk to them

Wait, so how did she feel about him trapping people in the shows? Welp. Nothing she could do. She was helpless! But she was sooo worried for them all while chewing popcorn on her couch at home watching the streams from her laptop, trust (she's a little bit cold and fucked up too there's just no other way these two could work out, plus she WAS technically helpless to stop him)

Another idea I've had is that... he stalks people, right. He canonically stalked Mario, he'd been watching all of them through screens and shit I think, it's a pretty standard part of his practices. If it's in person I think she would come along. People watcher + wants to supervise him + it's technically hanging out, her only qualm is the fear of getting caught. Girl why are your morals so lax about stalking. What is wrong with you. You're lucky your boyfriend makes you look like an angel in comparison

(Him frantically taking notes on Mario's source of the funni behind a bush + her getting bored two minutes in and just sketching the neighboring house or something until he's done. Parallel play <3)

Honestly her presence overall changes little to nothing in the story. Adds some things but the outcome of each mini-arc is the same. And I don't think it necessarily diminishes the Leggy friendship either, because having Two people you're bonded with after a lifetime of loneliness is indeed twice the amount of One, but it's still. Not a lot. That loss is still gonna fuck him up and make him worse (which also makes things worse for Firkász as a target of codependence, but more on such psychological burdens later)

Anyway something sillier I thought of is when Pedro is created she immediately assumes a parental role for no reason. She is a mom now & that is her son. And Puzzles is the dad, even though he vehemently denies this. "Don't talk to your son that way" "I'm not a father damn it" "but you created him" "yes but that doesn't make me-" and then Pedro starts looking all sad in a meme-y way. Do not deny your son Puzzles. Hesitantly he accepts the title if only to keep his minion cooperative

When Mario and Pedro have the meme-off she's in the audience cheering. Emotional support. Then Pedro loses but starts hanging out with Mario and finding himself, away from his deadbeat dad who only wanted to use him for views. I think it'd be really funny if he kept in touch with Firkász afterward but not Puzzles. One day her phone starts ringing during a conversation and she'll casually check it like "oh it's sonny boy Pedro" and while she goes to answer it he's just like "what"

Eventually she would also start suspecting that Puzzles might be homeless. He swings by her place often yet she's never seen his, he does all his villainous business in these abandoned buildings, and he's not really working or earning money? So she eventually asks "by the way where do you live" and after a series of unsatisfactory answers she's like "oh my god. just move in with me"

Then again is it really moving in if he's already hanging around like half the time. He can just come and go through television I guess. If she had one

But also I wasn't kidding when I offhandedly mentioned in that tag that she would ditch him for making brainrot. Look he's not proud of himself either but he swears up and down it's gonna bring the success he's been waiting for and still she's having none of it. Because that's just disgusting. Brainrot. For children. Mr Puzzles why are you trying to exploit children. And what of the artistic integrity. They argue and lucky for her he actually takes the initiative to leave with a suitcase (which is odd because did he even bring anything with him. is it just an empty prop for dramatic effect. has he taken things from her house), proclaiming loudly that he's going to be the most successful creator ever and when he's finally as rich and famous as he deserves she'll be knocking at the door of his mansion begging for him to have her by his side, just she waits-

An amount of days later she finds him on her doorstep, teary-eyed and dejected. She saw all the callout videos and streams. She knows exactly what happened

Now there are multiple ways the Puzzle Park conundrum could go, each slightly varying in the amount of angst that follows. The simplest one is the cop-out where, coincidentally, during the entire Didney takeover and the SMG4 crew's entrapment Firkász just so happens to be Somewhere Else. Like while no one way paying attention she went to visit family or something. Blissfully unaware until return. It would be of course hilarious that she just casually misses colossal events like that, but besides that he could even take offense to it

"I FINALLY made the most GLORIOUS THEME PARK and you didn't even SEE IT" "I'm sorry I was in Budapest. Anyway what the FUCK Puzzles"

The other and less pleasant alternative is her not sneaking a trip abroad and sticking around for the entire thing, which is bad because while she loves stepping as far aside as allowed when heinous things happen and then washing her hands, or maybe at this point she's even disturbed and concerned and afraid enough to want to cut him off, he won't let it happen. Making him care for her was her second mistake. (Caring herself was the first.) Now he's unwilling to lose her, and he possesses significant power with which he can make her submit. She's faced with the choice of either shutting up obediently, or being brainwashed along with the crew. He won't hurt her or, God forbid, torture her, oh no, he would never do something so horrible to his lovely Scribbles. But her personal autonomy is, for the moment, entirely negligible

If she's brainwashed and controlled, well, that's just utterly violating and something she'd have a very hard time forgiving. Girl what did you expect, he's the Brainwashes And Controls People Guy, you saw that red flag and you made a cozy little blindfold out of it. Coupled with the fact that she'd be the singular person to ever visit him in containment that means a lotta screaming, feeling wretched, then doing it again next week. Perhaps she'd stop coming one day, because she could no longer find more affection in herself than resentment to scrape out during those few hours, but it would eat her alive. Besides it would be dangerous... what if he breaks out somehow. What if she's never safe. Buuut that went a bit too serious and scary and we gotta stay silly here so on to the next option-

(Before we move on I think brainwashed Scribs would be dressed up very fancy and showy, like a magician's assistant. In a bold royal purple and sparkling gold perhaps. She'd perch elegantly on top of a TV, legs crossed, sneering at the bumbling contestants)

If she's taken but allowed her consciousness, I have fondly imagined that she gets the dubious honor of staying with him, physically speaking, inside the engine room... just imagine the feeling. Stuck in direct proximity of such a colossal mechanical being that's hanging from cables upon cables, huge screens surrounding you overlooking the park. I think it's pretty epic, if you aren't busy being terrified. Hey Scribbles didn't you want hands-on inspiration for your next novella anyway, maybe it could be tech horror-

This way she can witness all the fun challenges while still within a safe and agreeable proximity. Besides I don't think he would've ever intended a more physical role for her in the management of the park anyhow. She's more like arm candy or something... in this case for his enjoyment only ;)

Now as for Puzzles' defeat I've been tempted to not tamper with that either. It would certainly be less hassle, plus I don't know why, unlike the shameless self-indulgence of my AUs, when it comes to OC insertion I just get... shy to upset the status quo and the natural flow of events. Feels like a transgression unless based on extremely good reasoning. For the record I won't come into your house and steal all your cheese if you do it, by all means live out your Mary Sue dreams, comrades; this is mainly me being strict with myself. With Puzzles and M(L)eggy I don't wanna take away from the significance of their shared arc, albeit in the case of Firkász here being built up as an important companion suchly, I feel like either of them could reasonably do the deed. There may be a world where a conscious Firkász, already at prime proximity, decides to save the trio from a death struggle by going inside his head in an act of betrayal. But that's juuust a theory! /ref

Small side note, I feel like Leggy appearing to Child Puzzles in his mindscape did more harm than good anyway... since it only cemented his obsession with the little nugget. And whatever "power of friendship" lesson he's "learned" is pretty diminished by the fact that his crimes and mental instability have landed him a likely lifelong spot in solitary confinement. (Some people say he might come back, I fear for that possibility but also, slay king, we love to have you.) And besides I don't think he even learned a damn thing. His obsessive tendencies are just focused on his Companion Cube now

That leads me into my final point, the post-canon alterations... oh how much more comfortable it is, to meddle with a part of the timeline that has yet to be clearly paved against your intentions. There is soft and bountiful soil here, albeit radioactive

Picture this. You're Scribbles. Your boyfriend is in extremely high security prison and batshit insane. He's still your boyfriend. He has literally no one else. Of course you're gonna be visiting him

The first time she comes in she's horrified to see that they tied him to the bed. Untie him. Untie him right now what the hell were you all thinking. She'll formally request it if she must, yes she knows what he did but this is just inhumane. Twenthy layers of concrete bricks and metal are more than enough to keep him in there. He has rights too goddamnit

Side note do you think they did that because he could also be considered a threat to himself. Well whoops

I mean I guess how much he's restrained would still be conditional on his behavior so as a compromise what if it varied. Scribbles returns after a week and he's inexplicably in a straitjacket now, greeting her all innocently like "honeyyy hiiii :))" and she's all "what the hell did you do this time". He proceeds to explain that he didn't DO anything it's just that when he snapped at the psychatrist and threatened to rip out her spine then crush each vertebra individually before her eyes she didn't take it as a joke

It's evident from Leggy 2.0's existence that after the canon events he gets even more obsessive, if that's even possible, of his perceived connections so you may expect historical magnitudes of codependence here... I mean the power dynamics have been flipped and at any point she could just walk away forever and leave him to rot... so initially he'll have a hard time letting Scribbles go for the day (which is honestly understandable as he's in solitary confinement). When she must depart and he almost rips the cell door off its hinges she commissions a plushie of herself so he has something to remind him of her when she's away. Naturally he talks to it all the time. Leggy Rock and Scribbles Stuffie are buddies

Now she's not a mental health professional... I don't know if they would actually bother assigning him a therapist... I think that therapist would also need a therapist. Or maybe he's a group effort. Either way she'd come up with little crafty activities they can do together other than talking, using what she's allowed to bring in his cell. Paper... crayons I think... bro isn't even trusted with a pen. But drawing is a fun one regardless of your utensils. Origami... I feel like that would activate his perfectionism but once he gets a paper flower right he's so proud of himself and sticks it in her hair and she looks so pretty with it wow. I saw a video on Insta where the OP had a "clay date" with her boyfriend and they made little clay figures of animals and that's so cute too. Imagine the various paper and clay creations piling up on his nightstand over the months. A warm and friendly sight in the otherwise sterile room

A less wholesome opportunity is him recreating his enemies as little clay effigies and squeezing them to death. No Puzzles don't do that. Bad television

Funnily enough, though it can be exhausting to deal with, there are things Firkász would enjoy about this turn of events. He's a talkative fellow at heart and while he might love the sound of his own voice it's mostly all he hears, so when she decides to be the one to rant or rave about what's on her mind, he listens to her. And that feels... nice. Formerly he was so consumed by his plotting that she'd stopped feeling like she ever truly had his attention. When she visits now their time together is just about the two of them (after he accepts she's not going to break him out) and she's gushing about her new idea for a storyboarded sequence or she's describing the world of a novel never to be made or she's showing him her sketchbook or she's complaining about the shit day she had at work and he adds his own commentary to it but he's hearing her out and his eyes aren't on anyone or anything else. You know. Feels a lot like getting back someone you loved

Do I think he would eventually be released in light of her positive influence on his mental health? Hmm... dubious. I would definitely enjoy a redemption arc for him but as a part of that he's gotta stay out of the SMG4 crew's business. They owe him no forgiveness after all that

It would give way to amusing interactions of course if Firkász had made good acquaintaces with them in the meantime so as a result they and Puzzles have to sort of... tolerate each other sometimes... Meggy would probably like seeing his improvement but also at a distance, for now... it's kinda weird for them isn't it, because they both only liked each other when she was turned into the equivalent of a toddler

Anyway all of the above was really just a lengthy excuse to give Scribbles scary dog privileges. Yes I said it. Pretty sure many people would remember or have heard of the threat this man was and even if they don't know, just look at him. Look at that face. Does this face make you feel safe

Well it shouldn't

Touch his morality chain and there's a nonzero chance you'll be begging him to release you from the mortal coil by 2PM. He may be trying his best, but old habits die hard... and you'll die harder :)

...I don't mean it that way. Head out of the gutter. Please

Is any of that healthy for a relationship? Well uhh erm... hmm... ah. Oh well. Anyway

This concludes my ramble about the little bitch that lives in my mind since four days ago and the clinically insane television man I'm tacking her onto like a sticky hand. It has been three days of jotting down and editing the lore and all of this may be stupid but fuck it we ball (gotta keep killing cringe culture). Nonetheless I'm looking forward to taking -2 psychic damage every time I remember writing any part of this ✌️sayonara

#💌 rory answers #💬 rory rambles #<<< full stop.#this got long HAHAH #FYI her name is both “Firkász” and “Scribbles”. do not be confused I just like to switch it up for fun #Mr Puzzles and Ms Scribbles... sounds lovely together :3 #they're both little freak weirdos but in slightly different ways #smg4 firkász #smg4 scribbles #...do I tag this with his name #no... I shan't #shoutout to Jeremey for reminding me (when I whined about being too shy to post this on main) that this is SMG4 #I was scared that my SMG4 OC's lore may be stupid.#seriously. what was I thinking

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reality-liver-n0 · 1 year ago

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Balalaika: Black Lagoon's Monster

This post is going to be another long one so strap in. Once again, it's soley on Balalaika, but I may stray off a bit too.

Since I already adressed in my last big post about her differnces in manga and anime, this is going to center around how well her depiction (normally) is in the maga. Don't get me wrong, Anime Balalaika is terrifying as well but the manga in some panels takes it up a notch.

I'll share the specific panels that made me decide to cover this topic anyway.

All of these are terrifying. Legitimately I forgot how brutal the manga panels were in this. I'll go down each one and point out how I think they're effective in their use of envoking fear.

In the first image she is grinning with her teeth bared, and you can see how sharp they are. It's like she's a shark that got the first whiff of blood. Take notice of the man (I honestly forgot his name).

His teeth are depicted as well but there are just two that seem pointy. Even so, they're not as jagged or rigid as hers, in fact they look more blunt, akin to a prey animal.

Honestly her lipstick makes the whiteness of her canines pop out more and I'm wondering if she actually even thought of the tactical advantadge it gives in terms of intimidation. Probabaly not, but hey, let me headcanon here. I would assume she chose pink since it's more natural yet it still pops. And I'm not sure how well the red lipstick would go with her red suit, which would obviosuly be a lot duller due to its fabric.

Anyway, both her and the man's eyes are not shown. I'm not an artist but it's very important here and I think I can explain why.

Eyes are the window to the soul. Or at least the most reliable way to know what emotions someone is feeling. You can't quite fake a look if your eyes stay the same. So by removing the access to emotions, it acts as a blocking point. We don't see their eyes, therefore we can't really see the extent of what they're feeling. We can only assume or place ourselves in the situation to guess what emotions might be present.

A good refernce would be the monster under the bed. You don't know what it looks like, but you use all experience or imagination possible to create one that will scare you. So by not seeing Balalaika's eyes or his, we can only conjure up worse images than what could actually be presently there.

Eyes are also what most classical artists use to convey pain. Here are the most notable examples.

We literally cannot even comprehend the type of pain this poor man is in. Ok, maybe not that much but choosing to limit the pain to the rest of his face does hide whatever expression he is making. Even so, there's not a whole lot to accurately measure his pain. There is only his teeth, grinding in pain, and blood. Not a whole lot to go off of.

But one notable detail is his feet. They are not touching the ground. In fact, he is actvely trying to stop himself from choking to death in her grip. Also, her heels make her considerably taller since his feet appear to be sliding against the ground. He's probabaly only a couple of inches off the ground but consider Balalaika.

She's 5'10, only wearing heels, already disarmed him with her back turned, and during this entire exchange with Rock is holding him steadily above the ground. That may not mean much but to me it's a lot.

He is a full grown man. The estimated average height for Japanese males is 5'7 and their weight is 138lbs.

Need I remind you that she kept this man up so he was actively choking, and still was able to snap Rock around onto a car hood with one hand.

This guy is fucking dying and she's not breaking a sweat. (Queen behavior tbh)

Onto the second panel. I want to focus on Balalaika's face. Her eyes have an emotion I can't find the word for. Playfulness I guess? Or some type of manic state of power or happiness. You can just tell by her raised brow and the slant of her eyes that she's just toying with Rock here. It's all a display of her raw strength.

The next panel is worse in my opinion. Her entire scarred side is blacked out. Sickingly, her right eye looks more like a socket since the scar overlaps it. And the blackness of her suit makes her look like some grim reaper. Overall, I'm scared shitless.

Yet the final image was the last straw for me.

That look from her, the solid stare that is directed at Rock (the audience in effect) is terrible. She doesn't have the same joy from the prebvious panels. That could be due to her mouth being hidden but it's one of rage and suffering. Look back to the classical depictions of eyes. Looks a bit similar, right?

Also, personally the one that looks the most alike is the Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel. Which to me is so ironic that it's sad.

Another sad thing is that the pupil size in the last panel, or specifically in the right/scarred eye can be a result of the scarring. Which to me seems to be affected a lot under bright light or is just permanetely damaged in that imitation state that pupils do when introduced to it. I would say the former, just to fit another headcanon neatly; her office only holds seemingly softer lights, notably the orange/yellow one on her desk.

Finally, the worst and most important fact is that in these panels Balalaika admits it's been a while since she's done hand to hand combat. What?! She just took an armed man down and she's not even at her peak soldier state. As Boris says, playing mafia does dull the senses.

So yeah. Rememember that we have literally never seen Balalalaika attempt to be as physically pro-active as Roberta. She hasn't had a reason too. It's just jaw-dropping to think what Balalaika's true combat prowess is since we've only seen glimpses of it. Better yet, how good was she as a sniper to get her nickname?

Only our imagination can help us there, but considering the feats of Roberta Balalaika's sniper shots must be inhuman.

#black lagoon #balalaika #big boy post #This woman is so scary but I love her for it #analysis

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spacetimewithstuartgary · 4 months ago

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'Killer electrons': Lightning storms play cosmic pinball with space weather

When lightning strikes, the electrons come pouring down. In a new study, researchers at the University of Colorado Boulder, led by an undergraduate student, have discovered a novel connection between weather on Earth and space weather. The team utilized satellite data to reveal that lightning storms on our planet can dislodge particularly high-energy, or "extra-hot," electrons from the inner radiation belt—a region of space enveloped by charged particles that surround Earth like an inner tube.

The team's results could help satellites and even astronauts avoid dangerous radiation in space. This is one kind of downpour you don't want to get caught in, said lead author and undergraduate Max Feinland.

"These particles are the scary ones or what some people call 'killer electrons,'" said Feinland, who received his bachelor's degree in aerospace engineering sciences at CU Boulder in spring 2024. "They can penetrate metal on satellites, hit circuit boards and can be carcinogenic if they hit a person in space."

The study appeared Oct.8 in the journal Nature Communications.

The findings cast an eye toward the radiation belts, which are generated by Earth's magnetic field. Lauren Blum, a co-author of the paper and assistant professor in the Laboratory for Atmospheric and Space Physics (LASP) at CU Boulder, explained that two of these regions encircle our planet: While they move a lot over time, the inner belt tends to begin more than 600 miles above the surface. The outer belt starts roughly around 12,000 miles from Earth. These pool floaties in space trap charged particles streaming toward our planet from the sun, forming a sort of barrier between Earth's atmosphere and the rest of the solar system.

But they're not exactly airtight. Scientists, for example, have long known that high-energy electrons can fall toward Earth from the outer radiation belt. Blum and her colleagues, however, are the first to spot a similar rain coming from the inner belt.

Earth and space, in other words, may not be as separate as they look.

"Space weather is really driven both from above and below," Blum said.

Bolt from the blue

It's a testament to the power of lightning.

When a lightning bolt flashes in the sky on Earth, that burst of energy may also send radio waves spiraling deep into space. If those waves smack into electrons in the radiation belts, they can jostle them free—a bit like shaking your umbrella to knock the water off. In some cases, such "lightning-induced electron precipitation" can even influence the chemistry of Earth's atmosphere.

To date, researchers had only collected direct measurements of lower energy, or "colder," electrons falling from the inner radiation belt.

"Typically, the inner belt is thought to be kind of boring," Blum said. "It's stable. It's always there."

Her team's new discovery came about almost by accident. Feinland was analyzing data from NASA's now-decommissioned Solar, Anomalous, and Magnetospheric Particle Explorer (SAMPEX) satellite when he saw something odd: clumps of what seemed to be high-energy electrons moving through the inner belt.

"I showed Lauren some of my events, and she said, 'That's not where these are supposed to be,'" Feinland said. "Some literature suggests that there aren't any high-energy electrons in the inner belt at all."

The team decided to dig deeper.

In all, Feinland counted 45 surges of high-energy electrons in the inner belt from 1996 to 2006. He compared those events to records of lightning strikes in North America. Sure enough, some of the spikes in electrons seemed to happen less than a second after lightning strikes on the ground.

Electron pinball

Here's what the team thinks is happening: Following a lightning strike, radio waves from Earth kick off a kind of manic pinball game in space. They knock into electrons in the inner belt, which then begin to bounce between Earth's northern and southern hemispheres—going back and forth in just 0.2 seconds.

And each time the electrons bounce, some of them fall out of the belt and into our atmosphere.

"You have a big blob of electrons that bounces, and then returns and bounces again," Blum said. "You'll see this initial signal, and it will decay away."

Blum isn't sure how often such events happen. They may occur mostly during periods of high solar activity when the sun spits out a lot of high-energy electrons, stocking the inner belt with these particles.

The researchers want to understand these events better so that they can predict when they may be likely to occur, potentially helping to keep people and electronics in orbit safe.

Feinland, for his part, is grateful for the chance to study these magnificent storms.

"I didn't even realize how much I liked research until I got to do this project," he said.

Other co-authors of the new study included Robert Marshall, associate professor in the Ann and H.J. Smead Department of Aerospace Engineering Sciences at CU Boulder, Longzhi Gan of Boston University, Mykhaylo Shumko of the Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory and Mark Looper of The Aerospace Corporation.

TOP IMAGE: Visualization showing how magnetic field lines, thin cyan lines, circling Earth can trap charged particles, thin yellow lines. Credit: UCLA EPSS/NASA SVS

LOWER IMAGE: Visualization of the radiation belts surrounding Earth. Credit: NASA

#science #space #astronomy #physics #astrophysics

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whatavery · 5 months ago

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Rockaria (Comm)

Sitting with her full attention on Rocky, Maria listened as those sweet tunes filled her little apartment. She was no stranger to violin music, especially after she met the gray tabby. He'd introduced her to many new things in the brief time they’d known each other, the least of which being his strange, eccentric nature. It had taken a bit of time for her to get used to it, but now it was just a regular thing to her – a constant presence in her life whenever he was around. And she wouldn't want Rocky to act any other way.

The skinny tabby was one of the few people Maria had let get close to her since coming to St. Louis. Even being here for years had meant she had mostly kept to herself. For a variety of reasons too… Her smile faltered as the song came to an end.

“Ta-daa! What did you think? What’s wrong, sunshine?” Rocky inquired, looking concerned as his own manic smile likewise faltered. “Didn’t you like the song…?”

“Oh no- I mean yes – yes, I did enjoy it,” Maria hastily answered, the beige cat brushing one of her dark locks of hair out of her face. She put up a small smile. “Sorry, Rocky, I’ve just got a lot on my mind lately.”

Rocky moved from the spot in the center of the living room where he’d been playing and took a seat at the table opposite to Maria. His bright blue eyes met her yellow ones, and he gave her that wide smile that she knew so well by now. “Tell me, please. Maybe talking helps. Talking usually helps me. I like talking.”

Marina chuckled and shrugged. Her smile faded quickly. “It’s just… Do you like me, Rocky?”

The gray tabby seemed to genuinely be surprised by Maria's question as he stared at her. He put his violin and his bow down on the table and reached across to take her hand in his, gray- and beige-furred fingers gently brushing her darker ones. “Of course! I think you’re wonderful – a lovely lady, my ray of sunshine, my mighty savior.”

Maria couldn’t help but smile as she knew at least the last of those to be objectively true. She had indeed saved Rocky from a bear when they first met. It already felt like so long ago, but if she hadn’t found him, he might not be alive today. Good thing she’d grown up where bears lived; she’d known exactly how to get out of an encounter unscathed.

“Well, do you like… everything about me?” she further inquired, holding onto Rocky’s hand. Their eyes met again.

“Of course I do, Maria. Why do you ask? Did something happen?” Maria knew that although Rocky might not often show it, he had a perfectly good mind behind those blue eyes of his. She couldn’t keep things from him – nor did she want to.

“I just… I don’t feel pretty, Rocky.” Maria looked carefully at Rocky after she told him, wondering if he'd take her seriously, fearing that he might not. However, the tabby in blue didn’t crack jokes or even a smile as he looked at her. He had a surprisingly serious look on his face as Maria gripped his hand tighter. “All these other girls I see when I’m out, they’re so…”

“Well, Maria, they may be different, but… you know you’re still the definition of beauty to me – a Venusian sight in your own way,” Rocky insisted with a smile. He stood up and moved to stand in front of her chair. Maria turned her chair so she sat facing him. As usual, she wore a button-up shirt and a long skirt, both in shades of gray, a far cry from Rocky's colorful attire. With a belt around her waist, Maria did her best to take attention away from her softer, fuller body; she wanted to look like she had a waist like those women she saw on the streets. The worst was at parties when she saw girls her age wearing dresses that showed off their figure. She could never compare to those…

“You’re special to me, and you’re just… uh… special!” Rocky insisted with a broad grin on his face. The gray tabby’s striped tail gave a swish behind him as he took both her hands into his. He kissed the back of her right one, then her left one.

“Well…” Maria stood up and kissed Rocky's cheek, before she finally smiled – a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. “You don’t compare me to other girls you see?”

“I don’t see a reason to – you’re as beautiful as they come. So, you’ve got a different shape – that doesn’t make you any less of a lady to me.” Rocky kissed the back of each of her hands again, this time with an exaggerated “Mwah!” for each kiss. “Tell you what, let’s go out tonight. How’s that sound? Don’t be afraid to wear a dress, you’ll be as pretty as the other gals – if not more so! Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder – and in my eyes there ain’t no prettier lass in town!”

Maria was blushing, but each of those kisses had made her heart flutter in her chest, as had Rocky’s words. The tabby had a way with words, like how he’d so often recite or make up poetry on the spot. It was a charming trait, one Maria had liked as soon as they’d met. Back then, he’d even made up a poem about the bear that nearly mauled him.

“Rocky… I think that sounds like a wonderful time,” she told him, squeezing both his hands. She leaned in to kiss him on the lips, just a gentle peck. “I think tonight… I want to dance with you.”

“Oh, let’s hope the band’s up for playing then, because I’ll dance with you till you get sick of it!” he promised Maria, grinning at her with that big, wide smile of his. “Tonight’s your night, my darling, my dear! You’ll be the prettiest girl there, I guarantee it – at least to me!”

Once more Maria couldn’t help but blush. She knew of course that Lackadaisy didn’t often see big crowds anymore, but even then, Rocky's words were so encouraging. His energy – his wonderfully manic energy – and the sincerity of his words… How could she not be head over heels for this man? This wonderfully, strange, poetic man…

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy fanfiction #lackadaisy oc #oc x canon #rocky rickaby #lackadaisy rocky

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fishfingersalad · 1 year ago

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The foretold fic of Connie and South helping Wash bleach his hair for the first time! Includes Wash and Lina as siblings.

Fic under the cut

Lunch was a rather boring affair with York away on a mission and North on shore leave with his sister. If you asked Wash who was more likely to come back injured, he couldn’t tell you. The man was abruptly jolted out of his musings by something slamming down onto the table in front of him.

“‘Sup loser”

Wash sighed and turned to the voice, “Hi South. I thought you were supposed to be Austria or something”

South dramatically threw herself down on the bench next to him, “Firstly, it was Australia, second, I got sent home early for an attempted assault of an officer,” She flipped her hair out of her face. “Thirdly you now owe me thirty dollars.”

“THIRTY DOLLARS??? What- I- Why??”

“Thirty dollars Australian, not American, and,” she gently threw a plastic shopping bag onto the table, “I heard you were thinking about going blond”

Wash shot up so fast he almost fell off the bench “How do you know about that? You weren’t even in the room?? I don’t even think you were on the ship?!?”

South waved her hand ambiguously “You told Ohio who told Connie who told me, and I needed to pick up some dye to redo my tips anyway. So, wanna do your hair?”

Wash considered it for a minute. Getting hair products outside of shampoo while in space was hard, plus the only other people he knew who dyed their hair were Vera and Carolina. He’d listened to Vera complaining about getting chemical burns on her scalp so he didn’t exactly trust her skills, and asking Carolina for help seemed like a good way to end up on the training room floor. It looked like South was, unfortunately, his best bet.

He sighed, “Yeah, sure. Why not.”

A slightly manic grin spread across South’s face before she spun around and yelled across the mess hall, “HEY CONNIE! HE SAID YES!”

Connie turned and yelled back “WAIT REALLY?!”

“YEAH, GET OVER HERE! WE GOTTA DO IT BEFORE HE WIMPS OUT!”

Someone, probably Georgia judging by the voice, shouted, “SHUT THE FUCK UP ASSHOLES, I’M TRYNA EAT”

As he stared at the women's twin smirks, Wash got the feeling he may have made the wrong decision. He sighed, resigned to his fate. “Can I atleast finish my lunch first?”

Half an hour later saw Wash sitting on a bench in the women's showers wearing an old torn shirt he’d stolen from Maine. South was shaking a bottle with something blue in it, while Connie was gently finger combing his hair. Wash turned his head towards South, “Remind me why both of you need to be here again?”

South smirked again, “‘Cause I’ve been dying my own hair since I was like thirteen, and Connie knows how to cut hair so if we fuck up she can atleast make you look decent.”

Connie reached over to smack South on the arm, “I’ll have you know I used to bleach and dye my hair all the time. I probably have more experience with bleach than you, Miss natural blonde.”

Wash almost dropped the box of pink hair dye he was looking over, “Wait, seriously? You with coloured hair?”

Connie laughed, “Yes, seriously. I was really into scene and emo culture, I’ll show you some pictures sometime.”

South slammed the bottle on the sink a couple of times before going back to shaking it, “What like, teased hair, raccoon tail dye, all that?”

“Yep! Bright pink and green too.”

“No way!” South tilted the bottle a bit before walking over to Wash and Connie,“Heads up Wash, this is gonna smell like cat piss and itch a bit. If it starts burning, wash it out.”

“Wha-” His words were cut off by the odd feeling of a thick liquid on his hair. True to South’s word he felt a tingling feeling on his scalp, it was uncomfortable but not painful. He did have to resist the urge to scratch it as the blond woman rubbed it into his hair.

“Y’know,” South started, “We’re probably gonna have some leftover bleach, Wash’s hair is pretty short… Connie, how ‘bout we bring back the old hairstyle?”

“Are you asking if I wanna bleach some of my hair again?”

South shrugged, “I mean, why not? We’ve got all the materials.”

Connie pondered it a second before nodding, “Yeah sure, probably no raccoon stripes this time though”

“Hell yeah! Wash is just about done now.”

Wash suddenly zoned back in, “I am?”

“Connie, flick his cheek for me and then sit your ass down next to him so I can bleach yours” Connie happily obliged, “Wash, grab that plastic bag and put it over your hair”

Wash tilted his head, thinking maybe he heard her wrong “What? Why?”

“D’you wanna question me, or do you want your hair to be bleached properly?” Wash silently complied. “So, Connie, where do you want me to bleach?”

Connie eventually settled on bleaching the shaved part of her hair for the effect of, as South put it, ‘a sickass hot pink undercut’. The packaging said they had to wait half an hour before washing out their hair, none of them particularly felt like wandering around with plastic on their hair so the three of them were sitting on the tiled bathroom floor and gossiping. They were halfway through Connie telling them about how she accidentally walked in on Florida and Wyoming in a storage closet when the alarm on South’s watch went off.

The two of them with bleach in their hair went to separate stalls to rinse it out. Together, Wash and Connie turned to look at themselves in the mirror.

Connie turned a little to look at her now blonde undercut from a different angle, “Y’know I think it looks good! How about you, Wash?”

Wash stared at his reflection for a second before turning to the third person in the room, “South”

“Yeah?”

“...”

“South, why is my hair ORANGE?!?” Connie tried to muffle her giggles for a moment before giving up and beginning to laugh so hard she had to gasp for breath.

“Well, Wash. You have dark hair. Like really dark. It's- pfft- it’s not gonna go blond in one round of bleaching”

Wash looked at her, his face full of betrayal, “We have to do this AGAIN?”

South just shrugged “I mean, I thought we might. There’s a reason I bought two boxes of bleach.”

“We should- we should wait another- pffft- another day or two before bleaching it aga- again” Connie was just about rolling on the floor.

“I’M GONNA HAVE ORANGE HAIR FOR A FEW DAYS?!?”

“Awww cheer up Wash,” South punched his shoulder, “You’ll be right”

Wash just pouted at her.

Two days later, the three of them were back in the bathroom, rinsing out their hair again. The girls hair with pink dye, Wash’s with a second round of bleach. Wash was hesitant about looking in the mirror, but both the girls' hair looked amazing, and Connies assured him that his did too. Taking a deep breath, he turned to his reflection. It looked… familiar. He felt a gentle smile come over his face. A hand reached out and ruffled his hair “Seems like you like it, if that dopey grin is anything to go off of”

Wash whacked the hand, “Oh piss off South.”

The woman shrugged and smiled her crooked smirk, “If it’s too yellow I can always message North to pick up some toner”

“No, no, it’s good! Yours is too.” As Wash was talking, Connie reached over to fluff his hair. “What is it with you guys and my hair!”

Connie stuck her tongue out at him, “You wear your helmet all the time! We hardly ever get to see it!”

All three of them snapped their heads towards the door as it was thrown open. Carolina walked in and paused for a second before noticing the three by the mirrors.

“You three, what are you- Wash? Why are you in the women's bathroom? I-” You could practically see the moment her brain processed what she was seeing,“South, Ct, could you two… give us a minute?”

“Sure thing boss,” South saluted her sarcastically before clapping Wash on the shoulder, “Try not to die, Rookie.”

The door closed behind the women as they left, most likely to try and eavesdrop.

Carolina looked almost shocked, she briefly reached out her hand towards him before dropping it again, “Your- your hair, it’s-”

“D’you… like it?”

“You look… you look just like mom…”

Wash reached up a hand and ran it through his still drying hair, “Yeah that was kinda my intention. Dad’s gonna hate it.”

“Dad hates everything, I wouldn’t worry about that,” She sighed and looked away for a moment before walking over to lean against the sinks next to him, “It suits you y’know?”

Wash leant his head against Carolina's shoulder, “Thanks, that- that means a lot.”

She gently ruffled his hair, “Yeah, I know. I know.”

#the thing about ohio burning her scalp with hair bleach is something that happened to me #and it sucked >:(#red vs blue #rvb #agent washington #agent south dakota #agent connecticut #agent carolina

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violent-grove · 2 years ago

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(Trickster x Reader) Starstruck No More

Summary: Being a previous fan of The Trickster gives you an upper hand with dealing with him and his shenanigans. At first he may need a bit of a reminder to who you are, but after he finds out, it's a game changer.

Word Count: 5.1k

This place was already enough of a nightmare without your murderer showing up here as well. You still remembered the fateful day that you allowed your misguided love for your bias, Ji-Woon Hak, to dictate your utterly stupid actions. Many called you crazy for hopping on a plane to South Korea just to meet your favorite K-pop star, but as a dedicated fan, this action was anything but insane. How were you supposed to know that your bias was a mass-murdering psycho? Meeting him was a dream come true; being murdered by him was a complete nightmare. Fortunately, as you were on the brink of death, the fog took you.

The realm wasn't the greatest, but at least you were alive. Your fellow survivors weren't that bad either; you'd even made friends with some of them. Finally, you were getting used to your predicament, when the entity threw a wrench into your life, Yun-Jin Lee.

Seeing her appear in the realm, made your blood turn cold. Hearing her harrowing tale of how she got to be there, made your blood turn to ice. Not only did she know about The Trickster's murderous attitude, she actively ignored it for her selfish desires. The shock you felt soon turned to anger, and that anger soon turned to fear. If she was here, was he here as well? You didn't get much time to mull over the new information, as the fog surrounded you, signaling the start of a new trial.

The trial was in Blackwater Swamp. Seeing a generator right next to the shack, you get to work as fast as possible. Maybe this killer would have an off day, and let you all escape. It was unlikely, but it happened sometimes. You spotted Yun-Jin a little in the distance and waved her over to your gen. This was probably her first trial, and though you hated her with a passion, you knew the more knowledge she possessed, the more likely everyone was to survive.

The both of you were about 75% done with the gen when you started to hear the build-up for one of your favorite songs. Yun-Jin softly tugged on your sleeve and whispered in a heavy Korean accent, "Remember that guy I was telling everyone about at the campfire? I think he's the killer." You nodded and tried to keep working on the generator to the best of your ability, but the music kept building and building until it felt like the tune was practically blaring in your ears. Looking over the side of the gen, you see him.

Out of shock, you open your mouth in a silent scream. If there was any doubt in your mind about this being the Yun-Jin from your world, that was now gone. There was no possibility that you would mistake his face; the face of your murderer, the face of your favorite idol, and the face of the man running over to kill you and Yun-Jin. She was also frozen in shock, but you were luckily able to think fast enough to grab her arm and take her over to shack. Even though you weren't the best chaser yourself, you knew you would be leagues ahead of this newbie. You turn to her and say, "Get out of here or hide in a locker; I'll try to keep him distracted." She nodded and ran off to what looked like another generator.

Now it would be just the two of you, killer and victim, reunited. No amount of mental preparation would have made you ready for him to zoom into the open doorway of shack with the most manic look you had ever seen. Taking a right, you fast vault the window while hearing the glass clinking of The Tricksters knives. Of course, he used his knife-throwing trick while trying to kill all of you; why wouldn't he? Looping shack had become second nature to you after all of your time spent in The Entity's realm, but his knife-throwing was making the task extremely difficult.

Before long, you were downed from his expert aim and hooked. Luckily, it seemed like The Trickster hadn't recognized you at all. While you were on the hook, you gave yourself time to think. If you were being honest, you would say that you were a little insulted. Did Ji-Woon have so many victims that you were just one of the others? The thought almost made you feel dejected, but you didn't have time to mope; Meg came and saved you from the hook. The rest of the trial went horribly. Everyone, but Yun-Jin, was sacrificed, and everyone returned to the campfire in a sour mood, you most of all.

Before today, you finally thought you were getting a grasp on your situation, but The Trickster's presence stirred up unwanted feelings inside of you. Sure, you still hated him, but you also couldn't ignore all that time you spent fangirling over him, his past band, and his new solo career. Why did you find him attractive even now? What was wrong with you? Why couldn't you get this stupid K-pop artist out of your head?

The next few trials for you were tortuous. Everyone one of them pitted you against The Trickster. The only upside to this was that you became practically an expert at dodging his knife attacks. Already you were above average, having watched his knife performances over and over on Youtube, but now you were so good that all survivors would quickly turn to you when they heard The Trickster's melody.

It was during one of your many chases with him that when you finally went down, you yelled out, "You motherfucker!" With you on his shoulder, he let out a chuckle and leaned against a wall in amusement. The laugh he let out reminded you of some of his interviews: it sounded normal. His mirth gave you enough time to wiggle off his shoulder and run away, but instead of chasing you as usual, he allowed you to run and went after a different survivor. You used the opportunity to try and work on a generator.

It was the end of the trial, and you were the last one left. Looking up, you saw Kate's body being taken by The Entity. You tried to focus on your surroundings and listen for the hatch, and soon you heard it, but Ji-Woon must have as well. When you became closer to the hatch, you also heard his tune. As you rounded the corner of Dead Dawg Saloon, you saw him there in the open, standing over the hatch.

Figuring you would get this over with, you marched right up to Ji-Woon. Instead of throwing any knives or swinging his bat, he just stood there and watched you approach. The both of you were only three feet apart by now. Maybe he was letting you go? At first, that was your thought, before he kept stepping in your way. You had tried to keep your patience, he was once your favorite idol after all, but you were done. Looking up into his eyes, you said with annoyance, "Ok dude, let me through or kill me. I want this to be done with."

Ji-Woon only smirked before saying in English, "I just want to get to know one of my fans. Is that too hard to ask?" You knew he could speak English, but not that well.

You take one look at him, scoff, and say, "Yes, yes that is too much to ask." Looking at the hatch behind him you ask in the fakest voice you can manage, "Now, can you please let me get hatch, Ji-Woon?"

He did one of his deranged laughs and shook his head, "Can't I at least know your name, Starstruck?"

Your lip arches up in a snarl, and you answer with a resounding, "No." The Trickster looked taken slightly aback, and you used that opportunity to slip by him and make your escape.

After that streak of constant Trickster trials, you were finally allowed some reprieve. Not that you missed the other killers, but at least there was some variety in your trials again. While you felt relief at being apart from The Trickster, he felt quite the opposite. Over the many trials the two of you had spent together, Ji-Woon's fondness for your chases had grown. Out of all of the survivors, you were the only one able to keep up with his knives.

The Entity granting you a break from him made all of his following trials more and more boring. None of the other survivors' screams compared to yours. The sound his little Starstruck produced was like no other, but it almost felt familiar. There would only be a couple more trials before night fell upon The Entity's realm, and everyone would be let off the hook for twelve hours.

With the days you've been having, all you wanted to do was flop down on the ground and sleep. Unfortunately, Yun-Jin had other plans. Just as you were losing consciousness and giving up your body for a well-deserved rest, you felt a hand start to shake your shoulder. Because you were face-planted on the ground, you had to turn your head to the right to look up at her. In a groggy and annoyed voice, you asked, "Yes, Yun-Jin?"

She averted her gaze, and gave off an aura of nervousness, "I wanted to talk to you about The Trickster." Sitting down beside you she motioned for you to do the same. Reluctantly, you moved yourself into a sitting position and looked at her expectantly. You could tell she had put her business mode into gear by the seriousness in her tone, "How are you able to dodge his knives so well?"

The question made you stiffen. Truthfully, you did not want to tell her about your intertwined past with The Trickster, but you could try to come up with a lie of some sort, "I don't know, I've been here longer than you. Maybe I'm just more used to dodging things like that. You know The Huntress, she throws stuff similar to how he does it."

Yun-Jin squinted her eyes at you as if to say 'really?' and looked you directly in the eyes, "I might buy that, but there are people who have been here longer than you, and none of them are as good at predicting his moves." The more you talked with this woman, the more perturbed you became. What right did she have to interrogate you? She indirectly caused your death!

Your irritation with the K-pop manager in front of you caused you to get up and leave, but as you were doing so, you had one last thing to say, "I'm tired, and I don't like to talk shop when I'm supposed to be resting." She was so pushy. It seems like she hadn't changed a bit from the last time you saw her, the day of your almost-death.

You and a group of maybe ten to twenty others were being herded by Yun-Jin backstage to meet some of the performers. But you only had one performer in mind at the time, and his name was Ji-Woon Hak. After months of saving, you were finally able to buy your dream ticket: a front-row seat with a backstage tour. The feelings you got when you met Ji-Woon were indescribable. It felt comparable to meeting a god. One of the goals you had for making this trip was to hopefully get over your obsession with The Trickster, but meeting him in person made you fall in love with him even more.

When you and the group walked in, he was removing some of the more cumbersome makeup. Immediately, the two of you made eye contact, and he gave you one of the prettiest smiles known to man. Luckily, you were set to meet him first and then the rest of the acts that performed, but when Yun-Jin began guiding the group to the next performer, you hung back and headed for the door.

A hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks. Looking behind you, your heart almost stopped breathing at the sight of Ji-Woon. He gave you a gentle smile and asked in Korean, "Where are you going, Starstruck?"

Taking a sharp inhale, you tried to call upon all of your Korean knowledge. You were able to understand quite a bit, thanks to the help of some Discord friends, but your ability to speak the language was quite lacking. Trying your best to respond, you say, "I- uh, want see only you." That Korean was terrible, and you knew it. That sentence made you want to crawl into a corner and die of embarrassment.

Ji-Woon chuckled and said in a very thick Korean accent, "You came all the way here to see little old me?" You could only dumbly nod in response, if only you could go back and slap some sense into your past self. Ji-Woon gave a bright smile that, now, you know as predatory with your foresight, "Why don't follow me; I'd like to learn the story of one of my most dedicated fans." He led you into his private room.

You were only given a couple of seconds to gawk at his personal quarters before you felt a stab in your side. The pain you felt from this newly acquired injury was like none you had felt before. It felt like your insides had been split open and then pried apart. The moment that you registered all of the pain, you collapsed onto your side. Your vision was blurry until you were able to focus on some shiny black boots walking your way.

Looking up from the ground, you saw your bias, and now murderer, standing over you, colorful knife in hand. He was letting out an insane-sounding laugh at your pain. Taking deep breaths, you use your final words to shakily ask, "Why?"

He goes to bend down as you feel your life slipping through your fingers. You see him open his mouth, about to say something, but before he gets the chance, everything goes black and you're sat by a campfire.

That brought you back to today with a hatred for K-pop and trust issues. Taking a look at your surroundings, at least you were far away from Yun-Jin for now. Finally isolated from the others, you were able to rest peacefully.

The next few days in the Entity's realm were back to the same old routine, for a while. It was the start of another trial in the Yamaoka Estate. You knew that the generator in the house was the most dangerous, but if you could get it out of the way, the rest of the trial should go smoothly. Quietly, you make your way over and get to work.

Ji-Woon did some shakes to get rid of his pre-show jitters; he needed to have absolute focus if he was going to hear all of those mediocre screams. Instantly he spotted David and started to pursue him. Within a couple of seconds, the large Englishman was on the ground with a dozen knives protruding from his back. Picking David up and hooking him, Ji-Woon thought he heard some noises coming from the main building of this map.

Making his way over, he spots you through the window; his little Starstruck is in the trial. Immediately after his lemon eyes saw you, he started to devise a plan. If he could kill everyone else in the trial, and down you at the end, he would have until you bled out to talk to you.

Now with a purpose, The Trickster got to work. First to go was David, then, Kate, and that Dwight character was the easiest. While he was chasing your teammates, he admired how you tried to take chase and lead him away, but with your time as his prize, nothing would stop him.

Again, you were pitted against your most hated killer. You had tried so many times to save your teammates, but it was all futile. It's almost like he was avoiding you. You saw the body of Dwight get lifted by The Entity and started to run and look for the hatch. Regrettably, it looked like another Dead Dawg Saloon scenario; across the map, you could see The Trickster standing above the hatch as if he was taunting you.

Starting to trudge over to him, you accept your soon-to-be fate. After last time, there was no way he would take any chances with you, and in your injured state, you didn't stand a chance.

Ji-Woon heard your footsteps and put on one of his best performer smiles. As he swung his bat, knocking you down, he happily yelled, "Starstruck, you made it!" The cry you made as you fell to the ground was divine, but he did not appreciate the glare that came after, "Aw, did you think you'd get past me like last time? That was a mean trick you pulled, and as you should know, out of the two of us, I should be the one playing tricks."

Your glare hardened, and you asked, "What do you want, Ji-Woon?"

He only smirked and said, "I'm only giving a bit of VIP time to my most dedicated fan."

His words made your nostrils flare, your face turn red, and your veins filled with molten hot lava. With all of your strength, you yelled out, "I hate you!"

When Ji-Woon heard those words, there was a small crack in his trickster persona, but only for a moment. His anger soon overtook his shock. How dare you? Stepping on your hand, you let out a yelp as he leaned down, "I would watch your words carefully, bitch. We still have a couple of minutes until you bleed out."

Your determination never faltered, "Do your worst. It can never be as bad as killing me in the real world."

Stepping off of you, Ji-Woon knit his eyebrows together in confusion and asked, "What?" Thinking back to all of his victims, Ji-Woon realized why you seemed so familiar, you were the one who got away. You bled out too quickly, and he wasn't able to capture any of your screams in his soundproof room. The knowledge made him visibly flinch. He couldn't even bring himself to stop your escape from his grasp a second time. Silently, he allowed you to crawl through hatch and escape.

Back at the killer's campsite, beyond the forest, Ji-Woon felt something he had never felt before, regret at killing someone. He remembers your vibrant spirit that he had dampened. Thankfully, he could still feel that spark emanating from you; it wasn't completely gone. Instead of attempting to snuff it out again, he wanted to fan your flame.

At the survivor campsite, you felt better than you had in ages. You were able to stand up to your murderer and live to tell the tale. Witnessing that shocked expression bloom on his face was more healing than any therapy session. Your fellow survivors congratulated you on your escape and started relaxing. Night had just fallen upon The Entity's realm, and you went to your Special place on the edge of the forest for some solitude.

The next trials were strange, to say the least. You went up against The Trickster every time and every time you got the hatch. By the sixth trial, you knew something was up. The amount of luck you would need to find the hatch first five times in a row when you're shorter and slower than Ji-Woon was almost impossible. You were very suspicious, so when the hatch spawned right next to you once Jane died, you hid in wait. Luckily, the bushes in Dead Dawg Saloon provided excellent cover.

Starting to hear The Trickster's musical build-up, you held your breath and tried not to make a sound. He was close enough that your heart was beating; he had to have heard the hatch's ambient noise by now. From your bush hiding spot, you saw him look at the hatch, then look around, and then walk away.

Your shock caused you to accidentally fall out of your bush. The both of you locked eyes and held expressions of utter surprise. At the same time, both of you ask, "What are you doing?"

Scoffing, you ask, "You thought you saw the hatch first; why didn't you close it?" Your eyes widen as the realization dawns upon you, "Were you doing this every trial? I don't get it! You love killing me; what would make you give that up?"

Ji-Woon's shoulders tensed, and he averted his gaze. Faintly, he whispered, "Well, why were you waiting here?" He crossed his arms over his broad chest, "There was no reason for you to stay."

Getting up off the ground and standing to your full height, you pat your shorts clean of dust, "For your information, I found it suspicious that I was finding hatch first every time, and rightfully so." You squint your eyes and point at him, "Clearly, you're up to something."

In real-time you see The Trickster mask don Ji-Woon's face, "What? I can't give my favorite fan a free escape now and then?"

You give him a deadpan look and answer matter-of-factly, "Not when you love to hear your "favorite fan's" screams of pain, no."

The pleasant smile slowly falls from Ji-Woon's face and is replaced with a frown as he finally reveals the real reason for his kindness, "I remember the night you died."

Your body goes straight as a rod, and your eyes quickly shift to the open hatch behind Ji-Woon. Noticing your eye movement, he steps to the side, giving you a clear out, but you don't take it. Instead, you look him in the eyes and brashly say, "So, what? You feel bad now? Yun-Jin told me I wasn't the first, and I certainly wasn't the last." Fists clenching at your sides, you don't stop, "This is just another way to manipulate one of your "fans" and I'm not buying it."

In response, all Ji-Woon can do is give you a sad and regretful look. You used to love him so much, but he turned that adoration into hatred. Placing his bat on the ground, Ji-Woon asked timidly, "Can I do anything to show you that I don't wish to kill you anymore or ever again?"

You thought for a bit. How could you use this manipulation to your advantage? Glancing around in contemplation, your eyes landed on a locker, or a reload station for Ji-Woon, and an idea struck, "Give me one of your knives." You held out your hand and made a come-hither motion, silently telling him where to place the knife.

For a moment Ji-Woon hesitated, and you used that moment to say, "If you aren't going to do it, I'll just leave."

Before you could blink, the handle of one of his blades was placed in your hands, "Just don't go showing it off to anyone, Starstruck" A wink followed, "Let's keep this idol-fan relationship a secret between just the two of us."

Your grip on the handle tightened, and your heart started beating for all the wrong reasons. Don't forget that he's a killer, a torturer, a murderer. He doesn't mean any of this. But god, did it feel good to get some attention from your old favorite bias. A robotic nod was all Ji-Woon got in response from you before you leaped into the hatch.

That was the start of many meetings the two of you had at the end of trials. You both learned that if he didn't close the hatch and you didn't open the exit gates, you had all the time in the world to talk. At first, the meetings were awkward, but over time the both of you warmed up to each other. You still didn't trust him entirely, but after so much time spent with Ji-Woon, you were getting to a place of mutual trust.

It was during one of these meetings that Ji-Woon realizes that he loves you almost as much if not more than he loves himself. You're fun, you're utterly enchanting, and you understand his music, even the screaming bits. That realization soon causes the fear to set in: the fear of your pain.

After that meeting, he tries to convince the other killers to go easy on you. You're his, after all; he should be the only one allowed to cause you pain. Some agree, and some don't. Those who disagree with his terms become his enemies. Any way he can, he tries to screw them over. The Entity seems to be in favor of your relationship as well. Ji-Woon can't remember a single trial where you aren't one of the four survivors with him.

Things were heating up between the two of you, but there had to be just one final push to bring the two of you together. Starting another trial, you see it's going to take place in Ormond. Great, this place is notorious for having difficult-to-work generators because of the cold. There's no time to waste, so you start to idly connect some wires. Yun-Jin makes her way over and begins to help out.

Things are going smoothly when the two of you hear the build-up for The Trickster's music. Yun-Jin lets out a quiet, "Oh god", but you just keep on working and touch the knife in your pocket. After that trial at Dead Dawg Saloon, Ji-Woon stopped trying to kill you altogether. He only ever hooked you when you wanted to make yourself seem less suspicious.

The only one who had seemed at all suspicious was Yun-Jin. As the music kept crescendoing, and you kept working, Yun-Jin's feelings from before came to a climax. She asked with determination, "How do you know Ji-Woon?" Her question made you mess up and explode the generator in front of the two of you.

You tried to play it off, "I have no idea what you mean."

But she wasn't buying it, "I know you know him. That's the only explanation for how he plays the game around you. Do you ever notice how you always escape the trials he's in, how you could last longer than anyone else in a chase?"

The music was so loud now that you could barely hear her, but she still managed to yell out, "Who are you?"

Giving her a pained look, you finally reveal, "He killed me!" That was the last thing Yun-Jin heard before going down and being hooked. As you ran in the opposite direction in mock panic, you got one last look at Yun-Jin's shocked and regret filled face. You tried to help the rest of your team during the trial, but as usual, it was all futile.

Ji-Woon entered Ormond's main building after hooking Jake, the last survivor before you, when he saw your shivering form. There you were, in all of your beauty, hugging yourself on the couch. How had he never noticed how the cold affected you here. Immediately, Ji-Woon removed his jacket and put it over your quaking shoulders. Looking up with a smile, you shakily thank him.

He takes a seat next to you on the couch, but before he gets the chance to speak, he feels you subtly scooting closer to him and the heat he provides. Any chance Ji-Woon has to be close to you, he'll take. So, he puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you to his side.

Blushing, you look up at him, "Ji, you don't have to do this. I'm sure you're just as cold as I am." Thinking for a moment, you hesitantly suggest, "I could leave through hatch, then you wouldn't have to be-"

Ji-Woon put his chin on his outstretched hand and gave you one of his best celebrity looks, "Oh, Starstruck, you can't get rid of me that easily"

Snuggling into Ji-Woon more, you speedily reply, "No! I treasure every moment I can spend with you..." Trailing off, you keep going, "I just don't want you to suffer."

Your words make him think about all the times you've had to suffer. Whether it was being in The Entity's realm or by his hands in the real world, you've suffered enough in Ji-Woon's eyes. He holds you tighter and says one of the sweetest things you've ever heard, "If I could suffer for eternity instead of you, I would do so in a heartbeat." Looking down at your pure and kind expression, Ji-Woon swallowed. "You don't deserve the pain of this place."

His words felt so genuine and true; this was one of the many moments when it became impossible for you to tell yourself that this was all an act. His charming gestures in response to your shivering and his sweet words gave you the courage to lean in for a kiss, but halfway you started to chicken out. What were you thinking? Ji-Woon thought himself a god; there was no way he would even consider kissing a nobody like you.

But before you could back off completely, Ji-Woon made up the final distance and met your lips with his own in the most endearing kiss you've ever experienced. As you were kissing Ji-Woon, you felt something strange wash over you; it had the same feeling as entering the fog. The kiss lasted for ages, and the two of you only broke away when the need to breathe became too much.

When you opened your eyes and saw The Enity's claws coming up behind Ji-Woon, you pulled him back before any harm could come to him. At first, he was confused by your actions, until he also saw The Entity rising from the ground.

"That was impressive."

These words streamed into both of your heads, causing you to hold them in pain. You looked at each other in confusion.

"That true love's kiss was very touching." The disembodied voice sounded like it licked its lips, "Fortunately for you, these emotions taste way better than pain and mania. I won't be letting this relationship fail any time soon. Anything the two of you desire will be yours."

Soon enough, the both of you figured out this must be The Entity speaking. Ji-Woon was the first to speak up, "I'll be happy as long as I can stay with her."

You looked at Ji-Woon, no longer starstruck, but still very much in love, "I have the same wish."

"It shall be done."

Staring lovingly into Ji-Woon's eyes with a smile, the two of you lean in for one more kiss.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope my first attempt at writing a murderer wasn't too bad. If you've made it this far I cannot recommend fifteenine's work on AO3 enough; please go read it. It deserves a lot of love.

#trickster #trickster x reader #ji-woon x reader #reader #happy ending #dead by daylight #dbd #dbd killer #x reader #enemies to lovers

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nuumbie · 6 months ago

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okay I know you’ve already got scar requests but regarding your oneshot of us choosing him on the FIRST date like omg…..,,,,,

I know for a FACT I’d be literally like OMG PHYSICAL AFFECTION whether I’m fighting it or not cuz like I’m having identity issues I can’t just juggle that at the same time as my touchstarvedness being slowly cured like 🤷‍♀️ I’ll take the Scar hug that probably when I’d straight up cling it was hard enough before to not just give in to the physical affection my ass is NOT trying anymore I am CLINGY and I am HERE

What do you think Scar would think of such a thing like holy shit not only did they choose me but PHYSICAL AFFECTION RECIPROCATED THIS IS SO MUCH MORE THAN I COULDVE ASKED FOR I AM NOT LETTING THEM GO 🫶🫶

Is it a questionable desicion of reader? Of course it is however they are touchstarved snd several other issues, and he is probably too so 🤷‍♀️ I think it’d be funny and cute to see them attached at the hip especially with our popularity

general consensus, reader is naturally clingy n fucking caved when he straight up hugged them like okay clingy mode on they already have identity issues may as well reciprocate affection that they’re melting very much at

If any of this is too long or confusing lemme know 🙏

It has been months oomph … I recently gained motivation and cleaned some old works ( they are still messy since my writing is verrry self indulgent for me )… but I am going to try to respond to things…. I’m so sorry for those waiting for the sequel to the scar fic … those poor souls I’ll write it but to tell the truth I have NOT been playing WUWA !!! Waiting for the scar banner ….. but I made a promise when I made a messily owned tumblr blog !!!

( changli has come out since i’ve written anything that’s how long it took as a reference for my poor readers … )

Please come out soon scar… please it will revive my motivation in the game …

I wrote reader / rover as cat-coded ( ie hissing and biting judging him )…. Cause I mostly based the fic off the canon idea of being born an amnesiac and there are all these people forcing me to do … side quests … and having a realistic reason to go ok you might have a point evil man… and also it being rlly funny with a straight man reader x his manic energy… but honestly the idea of them being into it because they are experiencing it for the first time / not hating it per se is very fun. If we’re thinking of a rover! s/o ( I think he would be kind of mean to other people which is a fun dynamic to be explored later esp non!resonator readers … )…

The idea of you slowly getting accustomed to just having scar holding you close daily after joining… with his hugs or him being absurd with his requests for him to lead you by the hands so you don’t get ‘lost’ or the time he touches and pokes you to make sure you’re ’still there!’… very much excuses for physical contact !!!

The horror as you realize that you nuzzled back into scar… you know you did because he’s staring at you with these big old 🥺 eyes like it’s the most amazing thing in the world every time … and also because he’s laughing sing-song-like about how he’s the favoooorite in front of phorlova so you for sure know because he remembers cause he mentions it ! every ! single ! time! ( because she cares a lot for you too, her special sound, but he cares faaar more ! he’s making a record in his mind to bring up every time she acts even a bit possessive that he’s faaar superior ! )

( if anyone else touches you like that he gets weirdly pouty about it and territorial and probably does that stupid thing where he touches you over it like he’s replacing it with his own touch. very childish because he doesn’t have a mature way of processing his own feelings despite being smarter than he seems... i feel like he’s just as starved and he’s very new to this closeness thing or caring about someone so much. it’s so important because it’s you who’s so special… lavishing him in this attention… and he wants to be special to you. he wants to have you to himself … )

I think he would love it very much. would very much feed you your doses of daily touch when he realizes you like it in return… gives much serotonin to his brain when he realizes you’re clingy in and like it.

Would be hell for a reader who dislikes physical ! touch because i think he would try to hold back but would catch himself slipping up a lot. It’s a very soothing /possessive thing for him i think? There’s something about … holding the thing you like! Touching it. Affirming it’s there and it’s real. If you’re in his arms you can’t disappear !

He would love to be that good friend who absolutely wants to be more that shows you all about physical intimacy! Yes, he will teach you all about how affection is shared ! ( he has never experienced this for himself and is just as touch starved if not worse than you so now both of your ideas will be warped )…. Goes to caress your face or just rub and squeeze it like he’s taking in your features or memorizing the shape of your face or squeezes you like a squish toy sometimes, wrapping his arms around you /lifting you and carrying you around places / very much into the idea of actually holding you all the time, i think he would probably copy the things he sees normal people do when he sneaks around towns or now that he has you to experience such things with… or just gives into intrusive thoughts he’s finally got a chance to !!!

Would very much just touch certain places if it was a curiosity thing ... if that makes sense… his fingers probably brush up against your resonator mark a lot almost lovingly, reverent, maybe, as he touches the skin there like it’s special. Imagine him pressing the skin of his face there and caressing it lovingly or something... I think if your fingers touched his neck where his mask is in return in a nice, pleasant, way or shared even a fraction of attention there he might die actually. Gets speechless! Imagine that breathy, excited gulp of air before he grabs you by the wrist gently and holds your hand there… ‘can you touch there again like that?’ with that somewhat manic look.

And you remember instead of a black lamb always following after your footsteps he is also much like a big stupid dog.

Much thoughts…. Hope this feeds, nonnie !!! I’m an even worse rambler ! Let’s try to get to requests soon……… it’s so much easier to ramble than write…. But I will help feed the populace of scar fans !!!

#wuthering waves #wuwa #🗑️ trash talks #wuwa x reader #wuthering waves x reader #x reader

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popculturebuffet · 6 months ago

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Pirate Month III: The Wiggles Movie (Comission by Lachey V )

Ahoy me hearties and welcome back to Pirate Month III a look at pirate media and in this case media tha thas a pirate in it.

Today we're looking at the 1997 Wiggles Movie as Lachey has a lot of weird microfixations and this being the blog it is I support that. This is what he wanted when offered a part of pirate month,. The WIggles movie is pirate adjacent, but still a lot of fun. For those who haven't heard of them the wiggles are an australian band aimed at kids formed by three men studying child devleopment who happened to be musicains and decided to make a childrens band and their musician friend who they brought along for the ride. They've gone through multiple iterations, but we're focusing on the origianl fab four. In 1997 to expand their reach after a few succesful vhs takes and albums, they launched this movie. It was a gamble as in australia three year olds get free tickets which should be a thing everywhere.. but it paid off: theatrically it made back it's budget and it waas a success on home video. It later came here direct to videos. I don't have much other than that on background.

The Wiggles movie is... to put it gently.. a tad nuts, the story of a bumbling magicain who steals lead wiggle (the yellow one) greg's magic wand from a childrens party, ends up persued by the wiggles adopted daughter/younger sister/dinosaur dorthy who they spend the movie gaslighting by refusing to acknowledge her brithday to hide a suprise party instead of just saying happy birthday and not telling her about the party.

This one's going to be a lot of fun to talk about and with not a lot of intro to cover (I felt a full dive into the wiggles neat backstory wasn't fully necessary), let's begin under the cut.

The plot is really simple but i'm not against it as just as a comedy films plot can be pretty straightfoward to cram in jokes, a film for young toddlers dosen't need to be an epic generatoinal tale of the wiggles battle against an evil wizard. I'd love to see that, but that's not what five year olds are coming to see and i'm not the target audience.

The film follows Wally, an inept magician living in the shadow of his grandpa Waldo the maginifcent. He reacently died and the local magic club is holding a contest for the winner. Wally badly wants the wand as he thinks a magician needs it when the guy running it assures him no you just need self confidence dingus. Wally is played by stage actor tony wally.

So while peddling around on his trike wallowing in his own lack of confidence, can relate, wally comes across the wiggle doing a kids party becaus eit's what they do. If you want deep lore about how greg wears yellow to honor the bananana man who gave his life to save him again this isn't the movie. I will make that movie someday I promise, but this isn't that.

The film works for what it is: while I do prefer my kids media that tries to appeal to adults theirs no shame in making stuff for young kids. I may not enjoy this because i'm 27 years past the target demo.. but I can repsect the craft, how the wiggles at the time , Anthony Field, Jeff Fatt, Murray Cook and Greg Paige, have a LOT of manic energy. Their basically human muppets ala peewee herman and I can see why kids love them. Personality wise there isn't much: Greg's the leader, Anthony is constantly hungry, Jeff has untreated narcolypsey they constantly wake him up from and Murray drives. But they really work best as one singular unit and don't really need a ton of dividing traits kids would loose track of. Their just four goofy loveable guys who sing songs what good and have a dinosaur who may also be their sister or they've been raising since she was a baby or after a burglar killed her parents.

Greg happens to be doing a magic act so Wally does the natural and noble thing: HE'LL STEAL IT AND NO ONE WILL EVE RKNOW. Naturally dorthy catches him because Wally is a bit of a klutz. And because the wiggles have been gaslighting her.

Yeahhh let's talk about the other main plot which is intertwined. Dorthy is there to see the theft because it's her birthday.. and the wiggles are acting like they forgot. Now they DO have a reason for this: their having a suprise party and she can't know!

Yeah it's never come up before in the 600+ reviews i've done on this blog but I HATE this stock plot. So much. Yes I get it, you can't let someone know your having a suprise party from them. It's in the name. But the problem I have with this plot is the part where the people throwing it either act like they FORGOT about the birthday or can't go. The latter is a bit more understandable. The comic strip heart of the city used that just this week. I shit you not

This one admitely worked better for me as it's revealed every excuse they had, going shoe shopping , getting their hair done, makeup etc, was all one of her presents. It's still not perfect, but it's about as close you can get to me liking this trope.

In contrast the wiggles movie.. has them all claim to forget her birthday entirely. The wiggles, wags the dog and his various children he adopted either out of love or for the money it's never explained, Captain Feathersword, Henry the Octopus. They all pretend to not remember... for no reason. It's why the trope sets me off so much: you can make up a fucknig excuse. YOu don't have to act either suspicious as fuck or the mayor of jackass town who forgot their friends birthday. Just agree to it for now or make up an excuse. I didn't go INTO this knowing conciously i'd have the perfect counter argument but the heart story really is: yes they lie, yes they dispaoint her but the big twist and the dramatics of it help. Heart is someone who LIKES dramatics, she probably loved this. Where as Dorthy is.... well she should be 30 by my count as jeff was 40 in 1997 and we get a child flashback where the wiggles promise to always be there for dorthy. The good news is it's actual kids playing them. The bad news is those actual kids sing hot potato

I will get back to this "song" later. But for now just know it sucks and I hate it.

Point is this is her only family we know of , her best friends.. telling her they dont' care about their birthday. Like fucking christ just ADMIT it's her birthday. It's not that hard. She ends this subplot dispoindent planning to mope at home and ONLY ends up at the party because an inept magician happens to be performing there. And yes I know what some people reading this are probablys aying "Jake it's for toddlers".. but I see this plot so fucking often in stuff not for toddlers done the same way. I once saw all of Ponyville break pinky pie's spirit because they lied to her about her suprise party. Gratned part of that was also making applejack lie as she' sa very honest person but my god. Just admit you kjnow what day it is, your going to the party they think their having, and be done with it. And againt here at least she's throwing a party and dosen't know it's her own birthday, I get there's some neurosis there working against them... but if the choices are hurt your best friend or spoil the suprise... SPOIL THE FUCKING SUPRISE.

... I.. didn't agree to reviewing the wiggles movie expecting an angry tangent about a trope in media I dislike. Shame on me for not being more prepared.

So after a child tells them all what happened Greg does want to find Dorthy so she can get to the birthday on time. The fun thing is... Greg.. isn't worried about wally. He's heard of him. Greg knows everyone in town. Greg's the man. He knows he's harmless just a bit self loathing and bumbling.

So the rest of the film is pretty much just: dorthy and wally go somewhere to try and get the wand fixed, while the wiggles go somewhere, possibly somewhere they've been to find them. That's about all you get. It does work: the wiggles parts are mostly excuses for jokes or songs, while the dorthy and wally part has him slowly gain self worth by befrending wags and captain feathersword, and foiling the rose burgalar what killed dorthy's parents.

They even dance on stage. I'd ask at this point if it was wierd I kinda ship these two as their support of ecah other is adorable as is the fact that while pissed and trying to fix gregs wand after wally done breaks it, Dorthy geninely wants to help wally an dat the end Wally wants to tell greg himself and replace it , realizing he did a bad thing. But honestly... I ship so much weird crossover stuff that this is a drop in the bucket. I ship nifty and young neil. I crossed the threshold of sanity.. also nifty and hooty would make a good couple. Just saying.

The songs... aren't bad but aren't for me. Their fun have a lot of motion and I paticuarlly love the openign song hey there wally sung as a theme song for him as he pedals along, but mostly ti's just.. okay. it's not BAD music, but music can be good and still not for you. I do like the number where they caper underwater, and the medly over the credits and honestly DID want to go over all the music in this film.. but I just don't have any thoughts on it other than "this is pleasing to he ear and oh look i'm zoning out." i do give them credit for doing a pretty much all new soundtrack for the film though, with only a few signature songs thrown in. Enough to please the kids watching but give them some new faviorites

There is one song I do want to talk about... now where were we

Ah yes. I've heard the regular hot potato, it's not bad, a lot of fun, and I can see why it's one of thier biggets hits... now have a bunch of children tonelessly sing it and you've got my own personal hell. I don't hate kids, I respect media for them and despite all the jokes do like this film.. but I don't like "kidified" music that dosen't try. The wiggles... usually does, making genuine songs that just happen to appeal to kids. It's not for me but I get why their superstars. But this is just.. gahhhh .And I point it out as besides the whole gaslighting dorthy thing, which while not great is more inherent in that stock plot than them being bad storyteller, it's the only part of the film that really infuraties me. I could overlook the birthday nonsense to enjoy the vibes, but this... why did anyone ask for this.

So before we talk about wally some more, let's talk about the wiggleds other friends. We've got the octopus who wears a sailor hat, so you know he's cool and I genuinely mean that. His segments fine and I do like the underwater bits with the wiggles. Wags has a bunch of kids the waggettes. I can't tell if this is a heartwarming adoption, a donald duck situation or a bender rodregiz scammnig child service situation but i'm going with the forth. They peform a weird song that enchants wally.

Finally ooo it's captain feathersword. His song's a lot of fun, his actor hams it up nicely and his gimmick of just tickling people and smugglign cocaine is delightful. And he at least offers Dorthy a dance to distract her and thanks wally for saving his crew member. The wiggles friends aren't bad, their fun enough it's just not really anything for me... which given i'm 8 times the target demographic is fine just fine.

Wally does get a nice little character arc: he dances on stage, stops a robbbery, and realizes what his magic coach was trying to teach him: it's what's inside that counts my friends it's not the peel it's the nana. So wally decides to enter the magic contest not to win for himself but for dorthy so he can give greg his granpaps wand.

The magic contest is genuinely hilarious: wally is up against his douchey rival, whose only real roll in the film is to show up and be a dick to wally: he shows up in the intro to mock him, drives by to mock him, does so AGAAIN in the climax as he's trying to register, and does so AGAIN in the dressing room. At this poitn i'm not convinced he dosen't pop otu of wally's closet in the middle of th enight to mock him too.

His big trick is also just.. tosisng a bucket of glitter. Which I gotta admit is impressive: avengers endgame probablyw oudlnt' of happened if dr strange just had a bucket of glitter hanging around to throw in thanos eyes.

But lucky for wally he too has mastered the blade.. and the bucket of glitter. He also inherited his grandpa's outfit and magical trunk so he wins as you'd expect

The ending is rather sweet. Wally encourages Dorthy to come with him after they go back to the wiggles house and OH CHRIST I FORGOT THE DOOR

This horrifying monstrosity opens the wiggles house and tests them or dorthy whenever they wnat to enter. Thankfully they pass as this film was about to get a LOT bloodier if they failed. I don't know if ti eats them, puts them in a saw trap or just sicks the tall man on them but frankly i'm better off not knowing. Really happy they phased this guy out after season 1 of the tv show. I don't know how many 90's australian kids nightmares he still stalks but at least he stalked slightly less.

So they go IT WAS A SUPRISE PARTY and yeah yeah but I lke the bit iwth wally: wally genuinely apologizes, is accepted by the wiggles who are like "no harm no foul what's some theft between friends" and as you'd expect greg gives him the wand. and look this flim is predictable, kind of insane.. but i'ts charming. The wiggles movie didn't give me much to analyze: it's a simple work and does what it does well. But I can't deny the wiggles charisma, creatvity or charm> even with the stock plot I hate... I still like this movie. It's relaxing which is what a film for toddlers should be but not SUPER obnoxious for the adults watching.. Not full on something they can enjoy too, but not something that will drive them insane being played a hundred times. It also made me want some fruit salad and that ain't bad. Thanks for reading

#the wiggles #the wiggles movie #dorthy the dinosaur #captain feathersword #wags the dog #film #australia #musical #pirate month

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subwaytostardew · 10 months ago

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(Prev annon) oh Chandelure’s and Ingo’s bond is really interesting! Poor ingo getting gaslit tho ekjdndndjd love that the manic has to work overtime with joltik. Little baby does Not know what object is… and! The insertion of emmet in the 10 heart event was so much fun! I knew immediately that something was up when chandie said she sensed something fjfnnff

Yup! We thought a lot about how the twins interact with their Pokémon! And their respective personalities! Their ace's especially!

Chandelure sensing something was actually her picking up on the wild Bidoof in the area, but I also like that you interpreted it as her sensing Emmet prob hiding somewhere or following them wondering - "Where the heck Is Ingo going with the farmer?!"

Emmet wasn't supposed to be in the event until I was debugging and thought- I miss Emmet! Let's get him in here. I did want the "Psst. You should kiss him." part to be ambigious as to if it was Chandelure or not until Emmet revealed himself though.

Also, since it'll be a while 'till we even show how the Pokémon are like personality wise... (Even though there is a glimpse of them during their heart events like Emmet's 8 Heart and the twins' respective 4 heart events.)

I'll actually give a breakdown of them. Do note - I am copying and pasting what we have on a document here.

Their personalities and characters are subject to change as we think about them more, but this is what we have for now!

▽▲ Pokemon Characterization ▽▲

Key:

(M) = Male

(F) = Female

(N) = None/Nonbinary

◇──◆──◇──◆

Submas Pokemon

◇──◆──◇──◆

Chandelure (F)

• One of the more responsible Pokémon on the team.

• Being Ingo’s Ace- She has to make sure the other Pokémon are not causing an issue. Or a delay in their schedule. (She is the Boss Lady! No Pokemon dares cross her.)

• Demeanor or presence is that of a noble lady or a lady in waiting (Flowery language/carries self with lot of maturity)

• Will sometimes say some train words or use her trainer's phrase of Bravo.

• Cares deeply for Ingo and via proxy Emmet, she will burn a soul if someone dares….

• Not afraid to sometimes break her own rules a little if the moment calls for it. (Teasing, having fun, etc. she is a Ghost Pokemon.)

◇──◆──◇──◆

Eelektross (M)

• Feels a sense of responsibility as Emmet's ace but is clearly overwhelmed with it, not the best leader but he tries, a little unsure of himself (He is quiet in nature. And a bit wiggly.)

• Does get dragged into mischief... (Thanks Excadrill...) he's reluctant at first (follow the rules!) but above all, he's silly and wants to have fun (everyone smile!).

• Elongates words like Emmet, but more towards E's and S's.

• Veeeeeeeery quiet. Not the best at putting things into words. Often reframes everything into battles to make sense of them in his mind.

• Prefers to let his actions speak for themself. A bit impulsive at times.

◇──◆──◇──◆

Archeops (M)

• Derpy bird — he is aloof and silly at times.

• He is hardworking and persistent in Battle. Due to his ability (Defeatist) if he goes down he vows to try even harder for Emmet.

• Is prone to falling into a slump and becoming discouraged.... defeatist.

• Can mimic human speech. Though only short words or string of sentences. (Like a parrot!) He thinks it's fun to randomly shout things they hear. (Farmer can understand them fully)

• Full of Energy. Can’t sit still for too long or he’ll become bored.

◇──◆──◇──◆

Garbador (F)

• Acts shy- Will openly say what is making them embarrassed. Which in turns makes them more embarrassed

• Nervous about battling and messing up however… Everyone can agree… she is a formidable opponent. (Do not underestimate her)

• Loves cleaning up and helping (Beach, Trash, etc.)

• Also adores and loves flowers.

• May feel bad about their appearance towards others (She is a trash Pokémon… of course she gonna have self-esteem issues)

• Shy in the "Kyaaaaa >m< anime girl way" while Crustle is shy in the "quiet hermit" way

• Still worries about not fitting in with the main team since she's the newest member of them.

◇──◆──◇──◆

Crustle (M)

• Shy and reclusive, but polite.

• A bit territorial and likes their space...

• Want to make sure people or Pokémon get to the right destination.

• Living train (reference to Pokepark).

◇──◆──◇──◆

Haxorus (F)

• One of the more responsible Pokémon on the twins teams. (Works well with Chandelure.)

• Often acts mature. (She is a noble dragon!) Much like Cyllene but as a dragon.

• However…. She worries about the safety of others. Mostly the twins. (She coddles them.)

• Is not afraid to put a misbehaving Pokémon in their place.

• She will take care of others before herself. (Does not do self-care well and needs a bit of a reminder to take a break and stop worrying about others)

• Though she will not say it outloud - she finds that Emmet being frustrated about her using Earthquake in a multi-battle setting to be funny. Even though she was just following her trainer's orders - she has to keep her presence of being one of the more mature Pokémon.

◇──◆──◇──◆

Galvantula (F)

• Tired Mom.

• Often has to clean up other people's messes.

• Dedicated to tending to her Joltik babies. A bit of a one-track mind. Her babies come first and foremost. Will throw everyone else under the train for them.

• Loves Food. And will often try to find the best places for everyone to eat. (She will also keep in mind places the twins went out to eat before and like so if they are ever fighting about food she will simply grab a menu pamphlet from a place and present it to them)

• A bit judgemental... You can't be too trusting of others taking your children!

◇──◆──◇──◆

Joltik (N) (Though other mentions of Joltiks are various genders. Brothers, Sisters, etc.)

• Child-like

• Galvantula’s Baby

• Will say phrases. Example: Food! Fun!

• Can string sentences. But rarely. If they do talk to the farmer- think of a toddler or a little kid trying to talk.

• Main Joltik is surprisingly emotionally intellegent, but still just a kid in the grand scheme of things and doesn't quite know the terminology. When they see Emmet "splitting tracks" with the farmer they just think "Oh no! Emmet's doing the thing Mister Archeops does sometimes!"

◇──◆──◇──◆

Durant (M)

• Second newest addition to their main team (right before Garbodor).

• A hard worker. Basically a mafia henchman to Excadrill (You got it boss. I'm on it boss. Kind of thing)

• Thick New York accent???

• Is more of a follower than a leader as Durants are group or teamwork oriented Pokémon. (Reference to their various Pokédex entries)

◇──◆──◇──◆

Excadrill (M)

• Full of themselves. (Mafia Boss)

• Thinks he's soooo cool and mysterious but well. He's playing in the mud.

• Loves digging

• Is known to be one of the Pokémon that causes trouble.

• Will often make plans and put them into action with no worries for consequences or if they would accidentally harm others.

• Is not afraid of Chandelure (He actually is. Liar)

• However, They are a big softy to their trainer. (Loves to hug Ingo) and will get angry at others if they dare tell other Pokémon…. (He has a reputation to uphold of course!)

◇──◆──◇──◆

Klinklang (N)

• A silent watcher. He just observes the other Pokémon and their shenanigans

• Very emotional but well... it takes a while to understand how they express it.

• Has a twin sibling though they are currently back at home at Gear Station. Making sure everything runs smoothly during the twins absence

• Belongs to either Ingo or Emmet. But no one knows which Klinklang is which!

◇──◆──◇──◆

As you can see, their personalities vary between each other - they are a chaotic bunch as each Pokémon will have their own stories in the future to unfold. (Along with their own string of issues)

Some are a duo pair - like Durant and Excadrill. They're actually our favorites and we have some ideas with how their stories going to turn out.

Durant ended up being one of my favorites to think about... I have some thoughts about him being awkward but supportive coworkers with Garbodor (fellow newbie) as well. We're still working things out (and well... putting off delving too much into the Pokemon side of things since we can't quite implement them as full NPCS yet) but I'm excited to expand on their dynamics!

Overall this is what we have so far. And of course things change over time as we refine the mod more and more.

Also once again - Thank you so much for the kind words in the last post! When I saw that I just squeaked with delight.

It's actually reassuring to know that I'm doing something right when it comes to characterizations, etc. I'm also glad that Thylak doesn't mind proof-reading.

It's fine! I'm just glad Kade is so good at coming up with ideas. ^^

◁ Station Stewardess Kade

#mail car connecting line

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