#i want to know so bad how the game and book departments even functioned.

[rukafais]

One of those interesting-frustrating things about Lolth in particular is that since she's a major goddess who was transplanted from Greyhawk, she's gotten a ton of different origin stories, a chunk of which don't have to do with her being formerly an elven goddess at all or related to Corellon as anything more than a rival for the elves' attention and worship

...and then at some point someone introduced the "actually Lolth used to be Corellon's consort-waifu and she was WEAKER THAN HIM and ALL HER POWERS CAME FROM HIM and she BEGET TWO CHILDREN FROM HIM AND THEN BETRAYED HIM, HER LOVER" and then everyone used that for the rest of time forever since 3rd edition and all the other origins and different stories kinda got shunted to the side.

And the punchline is as far as I can discern from timelines, the patient zero of that specific interpretation wasnt even meant to be like. Accurate in any way because it was from a novel explicitly framed as historically inaccurate (the entire storyline is a dramatized play penned by a specific person as a gift for his wife). And then it got real weird because SOURCEBOOKS STARTED COPYING THAT OVER AND TAKING IT AS WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED. DnD, man.

[final-servamp-banter]

White Day Event: Gear

We stan the werewolf on this blog, his route gives me all the feels.

Gear: [Your name]? It’s me.

Gear: Tomorrow’s White Day, right? I’ll come pick you up from your place, so wait for me.

Gear: ……What? You’re in Japan, so that’s difficult?

Gear: You worry about small things, don’t you? That’s not an issue, so don’t worry about it.

Gear: All right, see you tomorrow.

(He hangs up)

You: (“Small things”, huh……)

~ 3/14 – in London, with Big Ben in the background ~

Gear: It’s evening already. We walked around quite a bit. Are you tired?

You: (Gear-san took me to a lot of places he likes…)

Player Choices (Note: Causes a split until after the next choice):

1: It was fun

2: I’m a little tired

Option 1:

Gear: I see, that’s good. That means working on this plan for a week without sleep was worth it.

You: (Eh?!)

Player Choices:

1: O-One week?!

2: Without sleeping at all?!

[Both options lead to the same dialog]

Gear: That was a joke. That’s just how enthusiastic I was.

Gear: That you were so surprised means it was worth telling that joke, too. Reminds me of how Youtarou was when he was younger.

Gear: Back then, he’d take every little thing I said seriously, but he’s grown up in the blink of an eye. Now he just says “Yeah, yeah” and brushes off whatever I say. Seriously.

Gear: I don’t want to forget that honesty of Youtarou’s, either.

Gear: ……? What are you getting sullen for? It sounds like I’m looking down on him?

Gear: I didn’t say that. I’m praising him. I’m the type who fundamentally praises humans.

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

Option 2 – “I’m a little tired”:

Gear: … I see. Sorry for not considering that. I don’t really get tired unless something outstanding happens.

Gear: I’ll consider that for our next date.

You: (D-Date…)

Player Choices:

1: So today was… A date, too?

2: So there’ll be… A next one?

Option 1:

Gear: I didn’t say that… Was that what you think I’d say? If not a date, what did you think it was? I don’t think there’s a man who can put together a date course as perfectly as I can.

Gear: Awkward humility isn’t good. It’s lonesome to not have confidence in yourself.

Option 2:

Gear: Of course. Depending on your schedule, since humans are usually much busier than I am.

Gear: It’s not like I have nothing to do. I’m busy, too. There’s a lot of new games and books that have piled up, after all.

[Rest is the same]

Gear: There wasn’t much time for shopping today, so next time, let’s make a department store the main part of our date.

Gear: I like to go shopping, but whenever I’m looking at home appliances, Youtarou soon says “I’m tired, I’m tired”. So we take a break and eat some ice cream.

Gear: And that’s although Youtarou looks around for ages if we’re in a clothes store. He only complains that we’re taking way too long if we’re shopping for me.

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

[Merge for the “It was fun”/”I’m a little tired” branch]

Gear: Well then, today we had lunch at a museum, afternoon tea… And we came here after enjoying a staple full course meal.

Gear: Your White Day Present is here.

You: (……?)

Player Choices:

1: …… Here?

2: Is there something here…?

[Both Choices lead to the same dialog]

Gear: It’s different from Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?

You: (…… Eh?! If I look closely…)

Player Choices:

1: Th-That clock tower…!

2: Big Ben…?!

3: It’s not under restoration…?!

[All options lead to the same dialog]

Gear: Yeah, Big Ben is under restoration. They’re not done working on the restauration yet.

Gear: You were disappointed when you couldn’t see Big Ben on Valentine’s Day.

Gear: So I thought I’d show you… “The appearance from a little while ago”.

You: (W-Wait a second…!)

Player Choices:

1: From a little while ago…?!

2: We went back in time?!

[Both choices lead to the same dialog]

Gear: From just before you couldn’t see it because they covered it in scaffolding for the restauration work.

Gear: Who do you think I am? I can do that much.

Gear: … Asserting that like this would be bad. Today is special. It’s not like I do this all the time. It’s not like I can do it all the time.

Gear: It’d be a problem if you thought I could do it, and it’d be a problem if there were rumors I could. So what I did today will be our secret, okay?

Gear: It’s especially a secret from Youtarou. He’d get angry at me and ask what I was doing. Maybe.

Gear: It’s like a special production just for today. It would be good if you could think of it as an illusion or a mirage. As a service just for here.

Gear: Time is transient and never returns. So doing this breaks the rules.

Gear: I just thought I wanted to give you the greatest surprise I could.

Gear: Objects decay, but emotions remain. No, I suppose in the short lifespan of humans, objects are what remains.

You: (For a White Day Gift…)

Player Choices:

1: An object might have been good

2: I prefer memories

Option 1:

Gear: Is that so? In that case, I’ll do that next year. My wish is to do something that makes you happy.

Gear: It’s wonderful to cherish tangible things in the limited amount of time they have.

Gear: I like that you can also use the object as a cue to think about your partner, or look at it to remember the time you spent with them.

Gear: … Even though that idiot didn’t seem to understand that. Ash, I mean.

Gear: I think of that promise while watching the starry sky through the hole in the roof. That way, I can think of someone far away.

Gear: The time spent thinking of others is lovely.

Gear: Unfulfilled promises may someday turn into sadness and anger, but… My life is too long to make something an “unfulfilled promise”.

Gear: That means, in short, that I’m patient.

Gear: Well, what I just said about Ash doesn’t matter. The promise we made was finally fulfilled, after over 100 years.

Option 2:

Gear: I see. That’s good.

Gear: I hope I’ve left even a small impression deep within you. Even if it’s an illusion like a dream and becomes vague once you wake up.

Gear: I hope that you’ll think, this definitely, without a doubt “happened”.

Gear: I’ll keep you within me, too. Time spent with your loved ones is irreplaceable.

Gear: I could see both your surprised and your happy face today. I’m as happy as I can be.

[Rest is the same]

Gear: In the end, living beings live for themselves. For their own joy. I’m glad that I need you for my joy.

Gear: Currently, my joy in life is made by you, Youtarou, Ash, that house, this town, and old dreams.

Gear: Thanks to you, my joy increased again. How could I not thank you for that?

Gear: Joy is the companion of living. Even the sadness of parting is a companion of living. That’s not just humans… Me and vampires like Ash are no exception.

Gear: I’m proud if I can be part of the joy in your life, too.

Gear: Give me your hand. We’ll cross that bridge together.

You: (He’s… holding his hand out to me…)

Player Choices:

1: Take his hand

2: Be overwhelmed

Option 1:

Gear: The illusion will stay until we cross that bridge hand in hand. Don’t let go of my hand on the way.

Gear: Let’s cross as slowly as possible. I want to remember your temperature, too.

Option 2:

Gear: … Ah, in that case, let’s just walk next to one another.

Gear: Even if we’re not touching, that doesn’t mean we don’t understand one another. We can be by each other’s side and love one another. That’s enough.

Gear: Well… I’d like you to allow me to at least look at your face in profile. All right, let’s go.

[Rest is the same]

Gear: Thank you for today, [Your Name].

[End]

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

T/N: When the player goes “Eh?!” after Gear says he hasn’t been sleeping for a week, there’s still Gear’s name and avatar on there. Which I know is a bug I just find it kinda funny lmao

“It reminds me of Youtarou when he was younger” is more literally “It reminds me of the old Youtarou”/”The Youtarou from long ago”, but I’m pretty sure he means Smol Youtarou.

From the “It sounds like I’m looking down on him” to “I’m praising him”, it’s not really clear whether he means Youtarou or the player - I went with Youtarou because he was the one Gear had been talking about, but the player might as well have felt that Gear was looking down on/making fun of them (by comparing them to Kid!Youtarou), or humans in general.

When he talks about the companions of life, there’s the “that’s not just humans” bit - He may also mean that it’s something beings that are not human feel while humans don’t, but then he says he and vampires are not exceptions, which is why I included humans (After all, if it meant non-humans, Gear wouldn’t have to specify again that non-humans feel it, too)

Gear is just,,,, so precious 🥺 Like “I was looking forward to seeing you so much I wanted to plan without sleeping” PLEASE SIR KNOW I LOVE YOU.

Also. Y’know, Nicco (yes I’ll do him soon-ish) already goes all-out, but Gear just goes and breaks the rules of the space-time-continuum for you. Like, that’s commitment.

I hated having to pick “I’d rather have something tangible” ;_; Dude BREAKS THE SPACE-TIME-CONTINUUM for you and you just go “Yeah nah gimme something worth money” that’s just MEAN!

Sorry for the long T/N I just have a lot of things to say and A LOT of emotions about Gear. Like, with the vampires, it’s so easy to forget how eternal they are, that they’re immortal. Theoretically, if a Servamp decides they want to keep someone around, they can make them into a vampire. Gear can’t. Gear has been around longer than the Servamps, and since he keeps making friends, choosing to make friends, he has lost so, so many people, and it’s just, you can tell that he functions on a scale vastly different from humans. But does he decide to harden his heart, to not meet new people to avoid the heartbreak? No, he sees it as a part of life, and while it’s sad, it’s worth it to him, and I just-- 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭

[brave-clarice]

“Clarice” Liveblog: Episode 2

Again, some extremely unfashionably late hot takes.

(Special thanks to @kathrynethegreat and @special-agent-pendragon​ for encouraging another liveblog!)

Clarice is working out! And eating junk food! I love it.

and cleaning her gun!

hey, Ardelia is drinking what I’m going to assume is her grandmother’s “smart people tea”.

Krendler disciplining Clarice already is infuriating but appropriate.

“I lost control.” Oh no, I don’t like that. Don’t make Clarice unstable. Her mental and emotional state never had anything to do with her failing career.

getting weird mixed signals from Ardelia. Last week, she obviously didn’t want Clarice to lie/stick to the script Krendler gave her, but now she’s telling Clarice she messed up by not doing so...?

“I better know you if you’re calling this early.” Amen, Ardelia.

I’m in love: this cinematography is straight out of the film (when she’s flying to WV with Crawford)!

“When’s the last time you went back to Appalachia?” “It’s been years.” What??? It has NOT been years--Clarice was JUST in West Virginia last week as well as in Silence, and she arguably attended college there as well. (UVA is at least nestled in the mountains, and you don’t have to drive far outside the Albemarle Valley to hit Appalachia proper.) After all the details about her character they’ve been nailing, they miss this glaring error? 

I like the tiny details she’s noticing (like the guy biting his nails). Not only because she’s an investigator, but because it’s reminiscent of Hannibal’s influence (imo).

Clarice Is Short: The Saga continues

still not getting any creepy vibes off Krendler. He’s going to be much less effective as an antagonist if he isn’t lewd as well as a dick.

I really don’t care for the way the opening “credits” fade out from the death’s-head moth to Clarice’s face. There are MANY animals that represent her, or parts of her, in the books--lions, lambs, horses, and of course birds--so this choice feels empty and lazy to me.

also lazy: having a fellow agent straight-up tell her in episode 2 “you shouldn’t be in the Bureau.” Maybe in two or three years, after some further “Death Angel”-type incidents, I could see this blatant rudeness, but not yet.

“Reesey”? Thanks, I hate it.

this flashback must be of Clarice’s little brother. That answers one question I had last week. That said...Clarice’s brother doesn’t play the same role in her story that Mischa does in Hannibal’s--but this sure feels like a Mischa-esque flashback.

good: they’re finally getting to the source of Clarice’s actual trauma!

bad: this is NOT how Clarice found out about her father. In fact, that whole incident is laid out in detail in the novels, and there’s nothing overly literary/un-cinematic about it, so this feels unnecessary. “The police are here! Something happened to Daddy!” No, bad! Show, don’t tell!

she would’ve known better than to introduce herself to that kid as “Clarice Starling, FBI,” come on now.

were they regularly able to wire tap hair clips in 1993? 

actually, nothing in this show looks very 90s to me so far. I’m sad about it.

so in eighteen months, Ruth Martin has gone from a junior Senator to the Attorney freakin’ General, and now she might run for governor?? At least let her get settled in one position of power first, why don’t you!

yet more Buffalo Bill flashbacks...alas.

are they trying to make this guy another surrogate Hannibal character? He’s commenting on Clarice’s accent and the dryness of her skin, asking about who she “left behind”...it all feels very Hannibal. (I know he’s a Charismatic Cult Leader trope, too--but when played off of Clarice...)

“Ew.” “I hate this guy.” I laughed.

I understand that Clarice probably feels conflicted re: her siblings in the book, but I’m really not digging the flashbacks of this Tim Burton character her brother.

@ the writers: Clarice already has the lamb backstory/symbolism, too. We don’t need this Little Brother stuff.

*shrieking* Mrs. Starling! At the sink washing the blood out of his hat!!! 

...aaand they had to ruin it with the brother’s painfully bad dialogue. Will still be good for gif-making, though.

are we supposed to interpret all these flashbacks as Clarice being incapable of controlling her emotions/state of mind? She keeps losing herself in memories and emerging all doe-eyed and panicky. I don’t like it.

not to be a broken record but...Clarice should be TOUGH. Again, Ardelia only saw her cry once in seven years. But she’s more worked up in this scene than Jodie was in Memphis!

when Mr. Cult Leader shouts “Agent Starling! Agent Starling!” he sounds exactly like Hannibal calling her back to his cell in the asylum. That has to be intentional. 

damn, wish that I could look as good five minutes after I’ve been crying as Clarice does.

I LOVE that Ardelia gets to be the crucial behind-the-scenes book-smart partner to Clarice’s action heroine.

AG Martin’s just playing politics by turning a blind eye to the crooked sheriff. But when her own daughter was just kidnapped and almost killed, she looks like a real hypocrite.

gosh, Rebecca Breeds is great. I already hope she gets nominated for an Emmy.

so Krendler is...doing the right thing???

Clarice’s father was definitely not a sheriff. I hope she’s just exaggerating for dramatic effect. (Maybe this will be clarified later.)

she couldn’t just sit with a manipulative guy without getting emotional, but she’s cool as a cucumber while telling an extended story about her father? HmmMM.

sometimes her mannerisms and facial expressions are so much like Jodie’s that it’s uncanny, like here when she leans forward to confront the Cult Leader.

“She did it.” Damn straight!

another great callback to Silence. this show’s camera crew knows its stuff!

“He’s concerned I have some residual trauma from Bill.” I. Hate. This. Subplot--and all its OOC implications.

“Catherine was close to her father, too.” Ooh, a nice allusion to the novel! Clarice makes note of their “common wound,” the loss of a father, when she’s in Catherine’s apartment in Silence.

she is just SO pretty.

little Clarice looks a LOT like Rebecca Breeds. I hope we see some more of her. 

The Good:

the continuing visual nods to the Silence film via cinematography

Mama Starling!!!

Clarice’s “The World Will Not Be This Way Within the Reach of my Arm” attitude, refusing to leave without helping the victims.

Ardelia Mapp coming in clutch! 

Clarice being, generally, a badass

and using psychological tricks/mind games to pin the antagonist...that’s the woman who disarmed a monster with just a few words.

Rebecca Breed’s acting has been phenomenal so far.

I like Clarice’s haircut a lot better when worn down (though it’s not very practical for fieldwork, so we probably won’t see it much).

The Bad:

the continuing Buffalo Bill-related Trauma Subplot. Ugh.

all the flashbacks to Clarice’s brother (and the not-so-subtle suggestion that her brother is, symbolically, another lamb).

will the real Paul Krendler please come forward? this guy is so TAME.

the other agents’ hostility towards Clarice needs to be toned down slightly so that it can escalate. Otherwise, where’s the tension?

is this actually 1993? I’m not feeling it. Shouldn’t it have a little of that Season 1/2 X-Files aesthetic? Please give me more than once-an-episode references to pagers and fax machines!

that glaring Appalachia continuity error...it’s still bugging me.

I missed the overt Hannibal references, even though they’re not necessary to any part of this episode. A lady can dream!

Overall, I really liked this one despite my various issues with it. It started shakily but built to a great finish. The emphasis across both episodes on Clarice being in the FBI not just to “get out, get anywhere,” but out of a genuine desire to help victims has been wonderful. I just hope they don’t swerve too far into the “too traumatized and emotionally compromised to function” lane. It would be a disservice to Clarice’s character and to her journey (and would smack too much of “Hannibal really did prey on her weak mind/brainwash her”.

Things I’d still like to see: More of her personality. Her hobbies and interests. That she’s cleaning her gun is great! Now let’s see “Poison Oakley” practicing her sharpshooting skills. Or car shopping. Or clothes shopping to show off her “developing taste.” (Ardelia can come!) I’ll take literally anything. Give us more of Clarice’s sense of humor as well. She had some subtle funny moments in the pilot, and it’s nice to see Rebecca smile for a change.

And Krendler? Smear that man in grease! I appreciated a happy ending even though Clarice’s career is, as we know, already in a downward spiral--the last thing we want is for every episode to be a slog, especially when a good chunk of the audience hasn’t read the book and doesn’t know Clarice is doomed to fail in the Bureau.

However... Krendler’s not a “redemption arc” kind of character. Or even a “run-of-the-mill sexist asshole” character. This is a man who spent seven years systematically sabotaging a young woman’s career because a) he was jealous that she solved the Gumb case before him, and b) she wouldn’t fuck him. He was a Justice Department official working fist-in-glove with a serial child molester who was planning some of the heinous vigilante justice imaginable. THAT’S why his very gruesome end at Hannibal’s hands felt deserved--even Clarice thought so! In short, he needs to get nasty.

Anyway, thanks for coming to another long-overdue TedTalk. Fingers crossed that the next one will be more timely (aiming for Sunday night)! 

[ohmrlove]

Hello! I’ve been asking a bunch of people to do this request because I want to see everyone’s different headcanons. How would the MLQC boys react to MC being a single mother? She never told them she has a 7yr son because they never thought to ask and we’ll call him Liam instead of “her son”. So they found out when Liam ran to her. MC is still young since Liam was born from unfortunate events like rape (she loves her son to death). How would the guys try to bond with Liam?

Trigger warning: ask centers around rape

🍷 Victor 🍷

He never would have imagined you were a single mother, let alone to a seven-year old. You were really good at hiding it!

It’s likely he overheard a snippet of a phone call when trying to approach you about work. A tiny little ‘love you mommy!’ on the phone during a break he didn’t know you were taking

Is kind of blown away you can strike the work-life balance and avoid being so consumed. Victor, himself, is bad at balancing intimate relationships outside of work so you mystify him

Gets super curious about this kid and slyly devises some work event that it’d be okay to bring them to

Realizes it’s a bad idea when he’s overwhelmed with the sheer amount of people--and kids--he has to greet, but likes that your kid was pretty quiet (shy) and sat at a table with you

He was playing with the big, fancy cloth napkins and Victor decided to fold one up in a semi-complicated design next to his

You introduce the two and it starts as Victor showing him how to fold napkins and teaching him about food

Casually drops Souvenir having a ‘Little Chefs day’ and encourages you to bring him

Victor can’t be the one running the class (obviously) so Mr. Mills does it and he helps grab all the stuff to make mac n’ cheese

Your son follows along, gets messy, and corrects Victor on how much cheese mac n’ cheese ACTUALLY needs. (“You want it to be really good! The best, like angels singing in your mouth, and that means lots of cheese!”)

Victor’s stomach hurts from all the cheese, but the whole thing was amusing

He’s suddenly ‘in the neighborhood’ a lot, and comes to sit with you and your son

When you have to collaborate with him on work, Victor insists you bring him so you don’t waste money on a babysitter. (”There’s two of us and one of him, it can’t be that hard.”)

Eventually learns the truth after the two of you have grown much closer and takes a deep, personal interest in making sure Liam never has that awful person for a father figure

“Just because” trips to places the three of you would like

Is basically your boyfriend/the dad figure but won’t own up to it unless super pissed off or being challenged in public. Will admit to it more when you’re married.

📢 Gavin 📢

Kind of dense about it. Had suspicions but no proof, and when he saw you two side by side, you picking him up to hug him, the similarities were PRETTY OBVIOUS

Birdcop felt kinda dumb

Becomes hyperfocused after that. When did this happen? A SEVEN YEAR OLD?! He never would’ve guessed!

Is worried the kid will be the total opposite of him--not super active, hates loud noises, etc--but is glad he can break the ice by showing him a cop car or his motorcycle

Answers all the typically excited job questions as best he can

Conveniently shows up at a school fitness day as a supervisor or some safety tie-in with the police department

Is happy to see him being nice to the other students and participates a little but mostly watches with you on the sidelines

Doesn’t ask you some of his questions since there’s other people nearby, but invites you two to ‘a little place’ he was going to afterwards

One dinner date turns into a few more, and Gavin is grasping at straws trying to invite you to stuff just to hang out. He’s got a soft spot for the kid and he sees his eyes light up and Gavin just can’t.

They turn into weekend buddies--fun at the park, movies, the whole nine yards!

He realizes this dynamic is getting pretty serious when your kid invites him to an award night at school. It’s just you two and Gavin is embarrassed but soooo proud! His heart is fluttering!

You tell him the truth about Liam’s conception and Gavin can only HOPE the guy is already dead. Boy is MAD. The news reported some wind issues for the next few hours, even into the next day.

Probably has a dark circle of people and MAKES SURE the guy doesn’t cause you any problems and stays FAR AWAY.

Focuses on being a good figure in Liam’s life.

The type to go ‘I know that kid’ and cheer him on at school functions. He’s got a distant older brother/aloof but warm personality so the transition to dad is going to be natural and hard to see.

🔬 Lucien 🔬

Probably figured it out before you ever told him. Considered that he’s a cousin/nephew or the kid happens to look somewhat like you (features can be common, etc.) but his gut says otherwise

Now that he thinks about it, he’s seen the kid off in the background when he dropped by your house sometimes. He just assumed you were babysitting a neighbor child.

When the two of you come to see him, holding hands, he knows. You’d run back to Lucien’s house and picked something up for him while he was stuck in a lecture.

Is too nosy for his own good--no matter how subtle--and offers to treat you for the errand. Whatever your kid wanted, he picked.

Lucien’s a people-watcher and found your kid’s table manners pretty interesting and he was pleased to note he wasn’t overly loud.

Their interests didn’t perfectly line up but Lucien’s absolutely voracious when it comes to learning and reading, so he had SOMETHING to say about Liam’s likes. Didn’t mind learning more from your excited, scatterbrained kid. It’s always funny to see people so passionate.

If he likes to sketch, Lucien could probably turn a sketch into a tiny robot or something. That puts him high on Liam’s list!

If he’s a more active/outdoor child, Lucien will invite the two of you along on a less-serious version of field research

Lucien can somehow always find the most interesting but less public city events, so it makes it fun and mysterious to tag along

Volunteers to babysit him when you’re super busy

They swap books and Lucien seems to have extra movie tickets lately

You guys drive to the Research Center to check on him one night when his experiment runs late and Lucien knows that this is a thing. You guys are a thing now. You’ve shown him that dedication and he’ll give it back two-fold (at least).

When he realizes no father figure’s coming in to make a fuss, Lucien has several theories. Finally inquires over a cup of tea, late at night when Liam’s asleep.

“Although certainly not ideal, Liam’s proof that good things can come out of a bad situation.”

He’s pretty vigilant about renewing any court-based paperwork that involves keeping the father away. Would probably kill him to really get him out of the picture, but has too many ideas and would rather not bother. The ultimate victory would be yours and Liam’s success, and he’ll invest in that instead.

🎤 Kiro 🎤

You and Liam were out buying groceries and running errands on your day off. Kiro was out (in disguise) trying to follow the diet his nutritionist set up...plus a few bag of chips

The two of you ran into each other at a booth giving away free samples. Kiro ABSOLUTELY can never turn down samples because they’re too small to matter and they’re usually junk food.

He says hello vaguely, as always, but when the kid says ‘Mommy, who’s that?’ Kiro absolutely loses it with disbelief and excitement

You rush him back to your house before he can blow his cover and the media gets the wrong idea

Kiro’s naturally a big kid at heart, and with his charming Evol, it won’t be hard for him to connect. Not that he’d use it.

If he gets too excited, it’ll happen accidentally.

He’s used to kids being excited to meet him so it’s a pretty easy introduction.

They talk superheroes, food, and all kinds of things!

If your kid’s not a big singer or dancer, Kiro’s more than happy to show him how to play the guitar or drums the next time you hang out. Kind of regrets that last one. But hey, he’s happy! That counts for something!

These two TOTALLY have a system where Liam brings him ‘contraband’ food when you visit and he HAS to take it because it would be rude to refuse a fan’s gift. Savin is not pleased.

Liam starts to understand that Kiro’s really busy or can’t go outside a lot/has to be private, so when the three of you hang out you usually bingewatch stuff or play video games. There’s always waaay too much takeout, but it’s delicious!

If you go to Kiro’s place, he probably installs a little fake sports hoop so they can play indoor games

Sometimes drops little coded messages in live vids (”And a special hello to my main man L!”) he loves it because it drives the internet absolutely nuts with trying to figure out who it is

He’ll casually arrange phone calls/voice messages from any of your son’s favorite TV characters/actors and make it seem like a ‘no biggie’ kind of thing. Kid super loves him then!

Not 100% what Kiro was aiming for--just trying to do something nice--but he’ll take it!

When he bothers to share any good news with Kiro, that’s when he knows he’s in the circle. You guys are close now.

When Kiro’s out supporting bands of designing a new stage line up, he likes your son’s input and will probably add a few of his favorite bands just so he has a reason to come.

It’s an unlikely family, but it’s a happy one. A happy one that is guarded to the teeth and Kiro has no qualms about bulldozing that disgusting excuse of a human in court.

May or may not put out a hit as Key. He’s a master hacker and could get rid of traces pretty easily 

[aion-rsa]

Why the Studio Kept Santa Claus Being in Miracle on 34th Street a Secret

https://ift.tt/3nFyHuv

If you ever sit down to watch 20th Century Fox’s original trailer for Miracle on 34th Street, a few things might appear strange. Right off the bat it’s unique—unprecedented even—to market a new release without any real footage from the film. Other than a few seconds of the movie’s opening titles and an actual shot from the picture’s final seconds, audiences were told nothing about Miracle on 34th Street other than it was “hilarious!” “exciting!” and, dare they say it, “groovy!”

There was of course a reason for this: 20th Century Fox, and more specifically studio head Darryl F. Zanuck, had absolutely no faith in the feel-good holiday movie and didn’t even want the audience to know it was a holiday movie. Zanuck’s insistence that the film open in New York City on June 4 probably added to their skittishness toward the subject matter.

An all-time Christmas movie classic today, Miracle on 34th Street pivots on the marvelous idea that Macy’s shopping mall Santa Claus (Edmund Gwenn) believes he genuinely is Santa—even going by the name Kris Kringle on his identification. And to prove this, he’ll even take the matter to court with the help of a couple of doubting Thomases like his boss, career woman Doris Walker (Maureen O’Hara), and her precocious daughter Susan (Natalie Wood).

An ingenious concept by Valentine Davies, who’d go on to write a book out of his high-concept, and penned for the screen by the film’s director George Seaton, the story enchanted everyone who came across it. Except Zanuck. He didn’t like the concept on the page and was reluctant to greenlight it; and then he liked it even less when he saw Seaton’s cut of the movie.

“[Darryl] Zanuck wasn’t sure it would be a success, so he had it released in June when movie attendance is highest, rather than wait for Christmas,” O’Hara wrote in her memoir ‘Tis Herself. “In fact, the publicity campaign barely talked about Christmas at all.”

Director Seaton’s original pitch was for the film to open in New York City on Thanksgiving, likely in no small part because the movie itself opens during the then quite regionally specific Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. However, Zanuck balked at the idea, believing the film would vanish from theaters quickly.

Some accounts suggest the studio head was knowingly gaming the tiered rollout of theatrical releases in the 1940s—wide releases would not become common until the 1970s—and that Zanuck foresaw the advantage of Miracle on 34th Street playing in major cities during the summer and then trickling down to the smaller and rural parts of the country in the fall. Yet given that Zanuck was reportedly astonished his Christmas movie was doing big business all the way through Christmas, it’s likely he didn’t believe the actual hype his studio plastered in the marketing for the film.

Which brings us back to that trailer. How do you market a Christmas movie where the main character believes he’s Santa without, you know, mentioning Christmas or Santa? The answer was to market a five-minute sketch in which a parody of a studio executive (who seems both as oblivious and ultimately wiser than Zanuck) wanders around the Fox lot hearing studio stars not in Miracle on 34th Street gush about how wonderful it is.

In the trailer, which you can view below, a nondescript boss named Bob rejects Fox’s marketing department for claiming a movie can be both exciting and tender (he insists he doesn’t need to watch it to sell it). However, as he prowls his own studio, he runs into Rex Harrison, the future Professor Higgins himself trying to cut an unconvincing figure as a man’s man. Harrison proclaims, “I never heard laughs like that in the theater before. Don’t miss it… I don’t know if the women will like it, but it’s a great man’s picture!”

Elsewhere, poor Bob bumps into Anne Baxter, who he helpfully reminds audiences just won an Oscar for The Razor’s Edge. After the congratulation though, he’s flummoxed to learn Anne also adored 34th Street but “I don’t know how the men are going to like it [because] it’s a great woman’s picture.”

Finally, the now totally befuddled exec runs into teen star Peggy Ann Garner—just adorably learning to drive—and singer-actor Dick Haymes. Now just what exactly the married with children 30-year-old Haymes is doing in a car with the studio’s teen sensation is never explained. But what is, is that Dick was kept “on the edge of his seat every second” of the film’s last 20 minutes, and that Peggy Ann thought the movie was “really groovy” too.

So Bob finally resigns himself to the fact he needs to watch this sucker, and after he does, he tells us it’s all of those things, and you’ll also love it! Just don’t ask what it’s about!

The secretive marketing campaign carried over to the film’s poster, which put hand drawn portraits of O’Hara and co-star John Payne across 50 percent of the one-sheet, as well as their names above the title. Gwenn’s Kris Kringle, however, is relegated to the background in a brown suit as he hugs young Wood like a dear old grandfather.

Nowhere in any of the marketing are the words “Christmas” or “Santa Claus” even teased. It’s a bizarre gambit for what was so clearly a holiday movie. And yet, it didn’t matter.

Read more

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Why Chronicles of Narnia’s Santa Claus Celebrates Christmas with Weapons of War

By Juliette Harrisson

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Christmas Movies on Disney+ Streaming Guide

By David Crow

When audiences and critics finally saw Miracle on 34th Street for themselves, they were as charmed then as we are more than 70 years later. Gwenn, who’d go on to win an Academy Award for playing Kris, much to Zanuck’s delight (the film also won a screenplay Oscar), instantly became iconic with the kind twinkle in his eye and entirely earnest depiction of a Santa Claus who walks among us. Genuinely, there may be little as endearingly cheerful as watching Gwenn’s St. Nick sing Christmas carols in Dutch with an orphaned immigrant.

Wood’s still convincingly natural performance as the skeptical child who’s made a true believer also made her the child actor of her age and launched her on to a movie star career..

Miracle on 34th Street remains one of the shinier highlights of the Christmas movie canon, and the rare example of a film changing the holiday season itself. Indeed, it was the movie’s actual footage of Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, breathlessly filmed over a few hours during the real 1946 event, that turned the local tradition into a national celebration that would soon be televised from coast-to-coast in the next decade on a newfangled technology called television.

Not bad for a film the studio was afraid to show even one red cap or white whisker of in its ad campaign.

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The post Why the Studio Kept Santa Claus Being in Miracle on 34th Street a Secret appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2LXuOTX

[the-fox-populi-says]

I don't often write long personal stuff on this blog. But the past month I've been confronted with a very odd privilege I wasn't really aware of. Apparantly, I am a natural hermit. I was alone a LOT as a child. I always found ways to entertain myself. People have told me before they found it sort of odd and/or remarkable that I manage to get out of bed and do stuff every day, on my own, from home, despite not making much money of the stuff I do. I always sort of shrugged it off. I like making things. Occassionally I sell things. Not a very steady income, though. My partner's income makes sure I don't starve. Which I sometimes feel guilty about, but that's not the point here. I was aware of my privilege in that department already. No, this new one... is about self-motivation. About boredom. Whatever I may have expected this pandemic to reveal... this wasn't it. I fundamentally do not understand boredom.

I will try to phrase this in a way that doesn't upset people (I know this is tumblr, so it's probably futile, but still). This is not an accusation to anybody. This is a personal observation, a reality I've been living in, but never really noticed. Not to this extent, at least. People... need structure. I know that. I do too. People are social. I know that. I am too. But still I was not prepared to see this many people react this badly to isolation. If you're stuck with people you don't like, of course. If you have a teensy little living space with no balcony or garden, of course. If you're worried about your health or those of close friends/relatives, of course. If you are touch-starved, of course. If your job/business is at risk, of course. If you are already struggling with depression, an eating disorder, a disability or are otherwise dependant on people taking care of you, of course. If you're very extraverted and can't stand being alone, of course. If you're a huge workaholic/completely exploited so you have no idea what to even do with free time, of course. If you suddenly get like 5 times the responsibility/ work load/ risk exposure because of your job, of course. If you have no money to get materials to fill your time with, of course. If you have little means of connecting with others such as a working internet device, of course. But then I see people, close friends even, with no friends or family at risk, no personal (mental) health issues, a secure job, living with a loving partner, in a spacious home, who have hobbies, and a safe place to go outside, an online continuation of their job so structure is still pretty much there, often even have a work room/study so they can still sort of separate work & private, some of them are even used to working from home already... And they are still climbing the walls. These same people who always want to have holidays. Who always have lists of stuff they want to do and complain about a lack of time. Which they now have. They say they can't get motivated. They say they are bored. And, like... I get it. To a certain degree. This is a worldwide traumatic event. It's tiring, even if you aren't at the front lines. I'm also bummed that I can't derp through the city centre for fun like I'm used to. I hate being forced to use a desinfected shopping cart. I miss my gym, my favourite bar, and seeing my friends. I've had some bad days. But that's it- I'm just bummed. And they're just days, sometimes just hours, not weeks. It's an "ugh" not an "aaargh". And it doesn't get worse- It gets easier. As long as none of the other factors change, like someone I care about getting very sick (some were, or even still are, but none of them seem in immediate danger), or money suddenly falling away completely... I can easily last another 2 months before going mad. In fact, I've just comfortably settled in for the long haul. I got my hugs, my yard, my job, I can still get groceries- I'm good. A bit annoyed, but good. Not much actually changed... Except everyone around me seems to suffer from some real cabin fever, including my partner. Even my dad, Einzelgänger McNeed-no-one, seems grumpy.

And I'm just... baffled. Is it really that hard to stay motivated all by yourself, even if your basic needs are all met? Am I some kind of alien?? Do y'all not have projects? Hobbies? Books and games and movies you want to catch up on? Do you not feel like you're always months behind on everything? Do you normally not want to cram as much hours as possible in a day? Is it really that difficult to just do things? Even instant reward things? I'm no stranger to procrastination, or executive dysfunction, not at all, but... genuine boredom? I don't even understand how that WORKS. I can recall the last 3 times I've been legit bored in the last five years. They were all situations where I had to wait for something, yet keep alert the entire time. In any other situation, I can just set an alarm and retreat in my head. Or do a thing. Again- if your basic needs AREN't met (I'm not talking about a haircut, I mean like physical starvation) or if you're in some other stressful situation, including mental or physical illness/disability- yes. Absolutely. You're burnt-out, completely understandable. But if you HAVE a structure (a bit altered maybe, but still), HAVE somebody nice with you, HAVE non-risky job security, CAN communicate with loved ones- HOW. What is it that normally keeps you motivated, then? Do you need that specific an environment & rhythm to thrive, even if you often complain about it?? Explain it to me, please! I know we're dealing with global environmental catastrophe and this pandemic will likely cause a global recession on top of it, but- to me, at a certain point the amount of shit just becomes insurmountable and it doesn't matter much anymore if anything gets added. Who knows how I'll afford retirement. At this rate might very well not be able to afford clean water before that. We'll cross that bridge when (if) we get to it. Do whatever you can while you can, and that's enough. And making stuff is a great way to combat existential dread. I know that at the start of this, most people with anxiety functioned way better than the so-called normal people. Because a) they were used to navigating panic-mode, b) the social distancing took a load off and c) their brains went HAH SEE WE WERE RIGHT THERE WAS A THREAT! which I imagine must be sort of satisfying and relaxing. I figured this was the evolutionary benefit of anxiety. So now that cabin fever is rising, why do I not see more natural hermits being weirded out by everyone around them? Should there not be a decent group of humanity that keeps a level head during isolation? Has it become some social faux-pas to say you're personally not all that bad right now? Are you supposed to complain, even if you're fine?? Am I going to make myself some kind of outcast by posting this???

[lovemesomesurveys]

What Rhymes With “ATE”?

1. What’s the last thing you ate? Ramen.

2. Do you have a gate to your backyard? Yeah.

3. Who’s your best mate? My mom.

4. How often do you mate? Have sex? Never have.

5. What would you use as bait on a fishing hook? I wouldn’t even go fishing let’s be real, but fine if I did I’d use worms or whatever I guess alkjfklfjklf. I wouldn’t be the one to put it on, though!

6. What do you bate your breath with? Any anxious situation. 

7. What’s the last thing you got in a crate? I don’t get things in crates.

8. When’s the last time you went on a date? Where did you go? Almost 5 years ago. It was a cute coffee and bookstore date with Ty. That was our favorite thing to do.

9. Do you believe in fate? No.

10. Have you ever seen a freight train in person before? Yeah.

11. Do you like grated cheese? Yesss.

12. Do you have an awkward gait? As a paraplegic, no I do not. Everything else about me is awkward, though.

13. When’s the last time you truly felt great? When I was a kid.

14. Who do you hate? Besides myself, no one.

15. Do you know of anyone named Kate or Nate? No.

16. When’s the last time you were late for something? I don’t recall. I’m big on being punctual.

17. Do you know how to plait hair? I haven’t heard it called that, but yes.

18. Do you have a favorite plate? Paper plates, ha.

19. Would rather ice skate or roller skate? I can’t do either one.

20. How would you rate this survey so far? I’ve enjoyed all your surveys!

21. Do you ever just wish for a clean slate? Yesssss.

22. What state do you live in? (if you’re American) California.

23. What is your current state of mind? Blah.

24. Are you straight? Yes.

25. Are you straight-laced? Straight-edged? No, because apparently you can’t have caffeine or narcotics to be considered straightedge, both of which I have.

26. Have you ever visited a strait? No.

27. What’s your best personality trait? Sense of humor.

28. How long will you wait for someone/something? I don’t know? 

29. What is your weight? I’m not exactly sure, but I think mid to low 70lbs. 

30. Are you awaiting anything special? No.

31. Do you berate anyone? Nooo.

32. Is there anyone you’d like to castrate? Uh, no!

33. Are you a cheapskate? Lol I have my moments, but I also can overspend. Just depends, really.

34. When was the last time you collated papers? I don’t recall.

35. Last thing you created? Uhhh.

36. What was your last debate about? I really try and avoid those.

37. Last time you inflated something? Or deflated? I don’t recall.

38. Do you dictate what other people can do? No.

39. Have your pupils ever dilated before? When I go to the eye doctor. 

40. When’s the last time you donated something? A few months ago when I got rid of some clothes.

41. The last time you felt elated? My Disneyland trip earlier this year.

42. Have you ever been to an estate sale? No.

43. What are you fixated on? Health related stuff.

44. How often do your floodgates open? I cry often.

45. Last thing you equated? Hmm.

46. Last time you felt frustrated? The last few days. I feel that way quite often.

47. Do you remember to stay hydrated? Yeah.

48. Do you live upstate? No.

49. How often do you post status updates? I very rarely post status updates on Facebook anymore, I just share things now and then. I tweet a lot, though.

50. How often do you use Google Translate? Not often, but sometimes. I actually did a couple days ago.

51. Who is a classmate that you are still friends with?

52. Have you ever had a teammate before? No.

53. Have you ever tailgated? No.

54. Have you ever reached a stalemate? That’s how I’ve felt the past few years.

55. Have you ever been sedated? Yeah, several times.

56. Do you rotate your mattress? No.

57. Last time you got a rebate? It’s been awhile, but I used to use Ebates (called Rakuten now). I keep forgetting to use it for some reason, which is dumb.

58. Have you ever felt like you could relate to someone? Yeah, many times.

59. Favorite primate? I don’t have one.

60. Do you have something ornate? Uhh. I don’t really have anything fancy.

61. Has an action ever negated the effect of your efforts? Yes.

62. Could you be described as a lightweight? Ha, yeah. For sure.

63. Would you like to visit Kuwait? I haven’t thought about it.

64. Last person that gyrated near you? No one.

65. Do you know someone who is irate or innate? Hmm.

66. Do you know of any inmates? Yes.

67. How long does it take you to acclimate? I struggle with change.

68. Last time you activated something? Not too long ago.

69. What do you advocate for? Stuff.

70. Last time you felt agitated or aggravated? Recently.

71. Last time you had to annotate something? Recently during my Bible study.

72. Have you ever felt alienated before? Yes.

73. What was the last caffeinated beverage you consumed? Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink.

74. Do you like carbonated drinks? Yeah.

75. What captivates you? Staring out at the ocean and listening to the waves crash in and out.

76. What do you allocate a lot of your hours towards? Watching YouTube videos and checking my social medias.

77. Last event you celebrated? 4th of July. Well, we just went out and watched fireworks from the driveway.

78. Last time you were compensated for something? I don’t recall.

79. Do you tend to make things complicated? Yepppp. :/  “Why you gotta go and make things so complicated?”

80. Do you find it hard to concentrate at times? Yes.

81. Have you ever had anything confiscated? No.

82. Last place you congregated at? I haven’t been around a large crowd of people since my Disneyland trip earlier this year. I won’t be again for a very long time given the current state of things.

83. How long are you with someone before you consummate the relationship? I’m a virgin.

84. Last time you had to conjugate a verb? I did that recently when I was helping my mom with her Duolingo Spanish lesson. It amazes me how much I still remember considering I haven’t taken a Spanish class or even really practiced it in almost 10 years. :O I mean, I’ll occasionally try and speak it or if I hear or see it somewhere I’ll try to translate it, but it’s not very often, so I’m surprised I’m still able to at all.

85. Last time you were constipated? I don’t recall.

86. How often do you contemplate life? Often.

87. Are you hard to cooperate with? No, I don’t think so.

88. Do you know anyone who cultivates land? No.

89. Would you want to be cremated? Yes.

90. Do you have any issues with your prostate? I don’t have a prostate. 

91. Have you ever decimated someone’s character before? No.

92. Do you decorate your home for the holidays? Yesss. Well, for Christmas. I used to for Halloween, but I haven’t the past few years. I should do that this year.

93. Who would you dedicate a book you wrote to? My mom.

94. Are you good at delegating group projects? I felt like I always had to take lead in group projects and make sure everything was getting done. I hated doing them, they stressed me out even more.

95. Do you know how to demonstrate things in order to show someone how to do something? I do feel like I suck at trying to explain things to others for the most part, but I guess it depends on the thing. 

96. In what ways do you deviate from “the norm”? I’m soon to be 31 years old and I still live at home with my parents, with no plans to move out anytime soon. I don’t have a job. I don’t have much, basically none, relationship experience. I’m a virgin. I’m just not a functioning adult.

97. How long after you take a painkiller does the pain start to dissipate? It typically takes about 30 minutes, but on really bad pain/flare up days it can take an hour or so and sometimes not until I have the next dose.

98. Do you feel the need to dominate in conversations? Nooo. I’m much more of a listener and I’ll throw the convo back to the other person.

99. Would you ever domesticate a wild animal? Why or why not? No.

100. Who is the last person you congratulated? For what? I don’t remember.

101. Would you like to decapitate anyone? Who, and why? Uh, no!

102. Do you ever think that you could duplicate something you’ve tried before?   Uhh, like what?

103. What do you feel you could educate others about? I don’t know. Remember before how I said I suck at explaining things to others?

104. What elevates your stress level? My heath, my life (including things related to my loved ones in my life, such as their health issues and things they’re dealing with/going through), and just...life in general, man. There’s a lot going on this year alone.

105. Do you have a tendency to make situations escalate? In my mind cause I jump to the worst conclusions. My natural reaction is to freak out.

106.  How good are you at estimating? Uhh, depends what I’m estimating.

107. Do you fabricate your stories? No. 

108. What is something that fascinates you? Psychology.

109. How long does it take you to formulate a game plan? Hmm. Depends.

110. What tends to make your blood pressure fluctuate? Stress and anxiety.

111. How do you generate enough energy to get through your day? What energy? I’m seriously lacking.

112. When did you graduate? I graduated UC back in 2015.

113. When you’re in a department store, which section do you gravitate towards most often? The clothes.

114. How often do you hesitate before doing or saying something? Often.

115. Do you ever wish that you could just hibernate? Yes.

116. Does anyone try to imitate you? Does it get on your nerves? No, but that would most definitely get on my nerves.

117. Do you like to instigate others? Nooo. I’m not an instigator.

118. Could you illustrate a children’s book? I couldn’t illustrate anything, I’m an artist at all.

119. Do you marinate your meats? I don’t cook.

120. Do you masturbate? No. What a way to end, ha.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[harryandhishook]

1-Reintroduction 100 writing prompt challenge - ConVin

Pairing: Connor x Gavin Reed

Setting: Detroit

Warning: Swearing, Gavin being Gavin, Connor and Hank being adorable Father and Son, Parental cuteness from Hank, SUMO

Summary:  After a year of Androids not being allowed to work as Markus help create new laws and regulations for his people to be safe, Connor is allowed to return to the DPD, there is only one problem he is facing, seeing the face of the man who tried to kill him. Will he start his old job fresh and keep away from the man who taunted him? Or will he try to restart his life and make amends?

Words: 4702

Requested: No, however it is part of a 100 writing Prompt challenge I’m challenging myself to do, I found this on DeviantArt from ribonsnlace and wanted to give myself more than just Descendants and I needed more Android Connnor cuteness 

Side note: For anyone reading my Harry Hook fanfiction, ‘Wings are made to Fly’ I promise I will update soon, I’ve just been so busy and had a slight bit of writers block on it for a while that I needed to try something else to get me into writing again, thanks for understanding :D

It had taken almost a year after the revolution for things to go back the way they were; a year of discussions, government meetings, speeches, planning and new laws; a year of androids being placed in safe homes with volunteers who had been through extensive background checks and many home visits, finally, it was all back to normal.

Androids were now free to apply for jobs, rent or buy houses, get married, live life and be alive. Most androids had made the choice to stay with their volunteers while others chose to make a life for themselves, some went back to the things they did before the revolution, some decided to explore new career paths as well as become stay at home wives or husbands.

There was only one problem that seemed to arise during that year; as the Androids were not allowed to work, a lot of hiring had to be done which was great for hundreds of people but not so good for the DPD. Hank was the first to be affected by it, luckily, with a lot of paperwork and convincing, he was able to take Connor in, however, that meant he was alone, he didn’t have his little crime fighting buddy by his side and it was causing a lot of his cases to go slower than usual.

Fowler, along with the entirety of the police department, realized just how much the cases suffered without Connor here. Most of the detectives missed the way he talked; Chris and Tina really missed how much he seemed to care about everyone around him, if their stress levels were higher than normal, he would instantly be by their sides, asking if they needed any refreshments. It was almost like Connor was their little therapy puppy, hovering around the bullpen with a soft, goofy smile and adorable way of speaking.

No one suspected just how much the sudden change had affect the one person who hated the android the most; Gavin Reed was barely functioning by the end of the year, every day, almost 15 cups of coffee would be scattered across his desk while he sat, staring almost hopefully at the empty desk across from Hank. He knew that he could easily go visit, he knew he could just open his phone and call, but Gavin also knew just how much of a heartless prick he had been to the poor Android and for some unknown reason, he really missed him.

The night before Connor was able to go back to work as an actual detective, everyone celebrated, his desk was covered in gifts and flowers for him, new instalments had been added just to make sure he had everything he would need to continue through the days and Hank had to be the one to begrudgingly go through a lot of annoying smiling face as he helped everyone decorate; even he didn’t know why everyone was going crazy over the idea of Connor working with them again.

Finally, after the excruciating annoyance of his co-workers, Hank was able to go home.

The sky glistened as the heavy droplets of snow fell, covering the houses, the wind around Hank as he walked the footpath toward his bungalow felt like sharp daggers slicing across his skin, the freezing temperatures taking a toll on his aging bones but it didn’t matter as he spotted the one person he was waiting to see, his friend, his co-worker, his son.

The silhouette of the Android danced across the closed curtains as he ran around the living room, the shadow of a big, hairy dog, bouncing after him; the laughter from inside was enough to make him realize just how much he needed Connor, the joy he could hear was enough to remind him why he had kept on living, why he had stopped drinking and why he no longer played a game with his gun.

The man shook himself from his thoughts quickly and stepped up to the door, only realizing it was a bad idea to be so loud when a huge fluff ball blocked his vision, causing the man to stumble and yell in surprise, making the four-legged softie more excited,

“Alright, alright, down you big mutt!” the older man said in frustration, his beard and cheek now covered in slobber. With a bit of hidden strength, he pushed the dog away from him, shuffling around so he could close the door with a soft thud; moving into the living room, Hank felt the edges of his lips curl up as he watched Connor clean up after Sumo, “So, seems you’ve been making the most of the day before you go back to work” the man commented as he placed a neatly wrapped parcel down onto the table just as Connor turned to look at him,

“Well, I suspected that I won’t really be able to spend much time with Sumo as much as I have over the year so I tried to use as much time as I could now to give him all the affection he deserves” the android replied, moving closer to the lieutenant as he deposited the items in his hand into a pile on the floor for a moment, “However, I am very grateful that Captain Fowler has allowed me to return to my position, I think I am going to enjoy being around everyone again” he continued as he wrapped his arms around Hank, “and I’m also so happy to be working along side you again, dad” he whispered, his arms pulling the older man into tighter embrace.

It didn’t really take Hank by surprise too much, Connor had become very affectionate over the year, deviating had caused Connor a lot of struggles, his emotions were all over the place for months but Hank, Markus and few others had quickly helped him through it all. Markus was the one to help Connor find hobbies, things he could do while he wasn’t working, they tried many things; cooking, baking, painting, reading, etc, not many things did interest him but he did enjoy losing himself in the imagination of the books Hank had collected over the years and to everyone’s surprise, cross-stitching; Connor had explained quite calmly to them that he quite enjoyed using the colours to bring an image together, or in Hanks words, ‘stabbing something a thousand times to make a beautiful piece of work’.

Beside all that, it was Hank who had given Connor the help he needed through emotions, Hank was there at every nightmare, Hank was there for every breakdown, Hank was there, always by his side, always holding him close, it was Hank who brought him out of the darkness he had put himself in, given him purpose when he thought he had lost it and without realizing, had given him a reason to live. Connor hadn’t ever told him but through some of the worst times, all he wanted to do was deactivate, he spiralled out of control, but Hank had saved him, just as the Android had saved Hank from himself.

Pulling himself back to the present, Hank kissed the top of Connor head softly, pulling himself back to look down at his son with a playful smirk, his hands resting on the Androids shoulders as spoke,

“Don’t get all emotional on me now, you haven’t even opened your present yet” he chuckled and quickly maneuverer the man to sit on the couch, even as the younger one protested against any presents, “And don’t give me all that crap about not needing any gifts, you’re my son, I’m allowed to and anyway, technically this isn’t from me” he argued cheerfully as he sat beside the Android, grabbing the gift and placing it on the other mans lap, “Open it”

Reluctantly and with a roll of his eyes, Connor slowly pulled the wrapping from the gift, he wanted to argue back but he knew Hank would never take it, the man was stubborn … now he knows where he gets his cocky little attitude from. A moment passed as he pulled the paper away from the present inside and noticed a form inside of what appeared to be a plastic bag. He glanced at Hank confused before reading over the form; realizing it was a complete order form for a new uniform, he quickly pulled it out to examine it,

“Why am I getting this now? I thought I would be getting my uniform as well as my badge tomorrow?” he asked confused as he opened the bag but a hand stopped him, causing the Android to move his gaze to the older man sitting beside him, smiling softly as he explained,

“Fowler wanted me to give you this, it took him a lot to get the uniform to look like this … Connor, you’re special to us but everyone thought this might be more of a Father-Son type thing so … just take it out” he finally said, too impatient to say anything more as he prompted Connor to look at the Uniform.

The Android agreed as he pulled the uniform from the bag, placing them down on the table as he picked up each item, the uniform was the basic Police uniform, not really much difference until he spotted small details, details that normal civilian wouldn’t notice; his shirt was slightly more blue than the normal shirts, his tie had a single blue strip at the bottom and the collar of his shirt had a very thin strip of blue around the edge like his old Cyberlife jacket.

Connor stared for longer than he should have, Fowler had taken time out of his busy schedule to get his uniform design slightly more custom to him. It wasn’t like he was someone important but the fact that they were all doing something like this for him made him feel more than just an android … and that was the moment his emotion decided to run on overdrive. Quickly, he placed the uniform back onto the table and threw himself at Hank, hiding his face in the man’s shirt as he cried, unfortunately for Hank, he was now stuck with a crying Android tightly holding him and no idea what to do,

“Hey kid, it’s okay, you mean a lot to us, Connor, you’re one of the best detectives we have and anyway, if you want to thank anyone for the uniform, thank Reed, he put the idea into Fowlers head … I don’t know how but he did” Hank explained as he slowly ran his hands up and down the Androids back, trying to comfort him. Slowly, the sobs turned into little sniffles as the younger man looked up,

“Detective Reed? H-He did this for me?” he asked as he looked over at his new uniform, his expression becoming one of confusion, “Why? He hated me, he hates me, he hasn’t spoken to me since the incident in the evidence room” he mused, more to himself but loud enough that Hank heard, making the elder sigh softly,

“He’s a disaster, since you left, he hasn’t been the same, we thought it was because he didn’t have you to torment but I think he actually misses you, Connor” Hank stated, trying his hardest not to jump to conclusion but it wasn’t hard to see the very obvious signs, “What do you think about it all, Connor? If Gavin does want a second chance, if he does actual miss you … do you want to try?” he asked, looking down at the Android who had now turned his head away from the brand new clothes, a frown on his face as he shrugged,

“I’m not sure … I …” he struggled to think of the correct words for the situation, he tried to think of the right words that wouldn’t make him look like a heartless monster, “He hurt me deeply, he punched me, he held a gun to my head and tried to kill me … he hated me as well as other Androids, he never liked me and he never will … but if he really wants a second chance, if there is a chance he does miss me … then I will try” he said, looking up to his dad with those big puppy dog eyes that no one could resist, “Was that a good response?” he asked, hoping he had read the situation correctly and when he saw the soft expression of Hank watching him, he knew he had,

“Yeah, it was good, Son, now, get some rest, you have a lot to do tomorrow” he instructed, helped the Android up off the couch, kissing his head softly, “I’m so proud of you” and with that, the older man left the room, heading to his own bedroom to get as much sleep as possible, leaving the android alone with the clothes and his thoughts.

The next day came quicker than expected; Connor, as punctual as ever, had exited sleep mode, fed as well as walked, Sumo, made breakfast for Hank and woken him, all before six in the morning. Hank hadn’t been expecting to wake up to smell of fried eggs and bacon but damn, he knew this was going to be a good morning, even if it was six in the god damn morning. However, what Hank hadn’t been expecting more than the breakfast, was entering the kitchen in nothing but his boxers and a shirt to find Connor completely dressed, uniform neatly on him, his hair styled like normal with a slight curl instead of his usual flick on his forehead but the thing that topped it all off was the large toddler like grin on his face,

“Good Morning Lieutenant, I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of making breakfast for you, I also made you some coffee, just how you like it” he cheerfully exclaimed as he placed a mug on the kitchen table for Hank, turning away to plate up the food, “I’ve estimated that we will have enough time for you to eat this as well as pick you up a cup of your favourite coffee from that little café you like” he stated before handing the older man his food.

Hanks smile was reminiscent of a proud parent as he ate, watching Connor almost skip around the place, anyone could see that the Android was happier and it made Hank understand just what it meant to stay alive,

“So, Connor, are you ready to start you’re first day as a fully paid detective?” he asked as he chugged almost half of his coffee and shoved some more of his bacon into his mouth. He could see Connors LED become just a little bit brighter as the Android beamed happily,

“I am so excited, Hank, I get to do the thing I was made to do but this time actually do it with a passion … I’m just a little scared” the androids face slowly turned into one of worry, the light covering his left temple became a soft yellow, “I know that, now I’m deviant, it’ll be a different experience, I can feel and emote unlike before so I’m worried about how cases will affect me, however, I see it as more of a learning curve, it scares me more than I thought but it excites me too …” he explained as his LED slowly turned back to blue as his usual smile appeared on his face, his head turning towards Hank, “I’m just glad I’ll get to work along side you, dad” his voice was soft and his eyes showed adoration.

The older man slowly stood, the faint sound of clicks filled the space as his joints tried to fight the action; he placed the plates in the sink before placing a hand on Connors shoulder, speaking with a smile,

“Connor, you’re going to be just as amazing as before, don’t worry” he encouraged before slapping his shoulder gently, moving around him to finally dress for another days work, “make sure you’ve got everything before we leave” the Lieutenant yelled through the house a moment before a soft click of his bedroom door could be heard, leaving Connor to wait for him on the sofa.

As Connor waited, his mind wandered back to one thing Hank seemed to continuously mention, Gavin Reed, he knew he would have to go back and be in the same building as the man, he knew he would have to either interact with him in the precinct or on a scene and unfortunately, Connor was going to have to think of what to do; he could ignore him and only talk to him when it is absolutely necessary but Connor quickly shook that from his head, if he was being honest, he didn’t want to ignore Gavin, or anyone for that matter, he wanted to restart and make friendships, not cause rifts before he’s even had a chance to try. The only other idea was to try again … he shook that from his head as well, Gavin wouldn’t dare, he wouldn’t look twice at the android and Connor knew that there was only one thing to do, only speak when spoke to when it comes to Gavin.

Soon, Hank and Connor were on their way back to the Precinct, both smiling at the silence of being together in the car once again. Hanks music was quietly playing through the old speakers as the engine rattled against the bumps in the road, neither one of them wanting to ruin their quaint little journey but they knew it would end when Connor spoke up, refusing to turn his head away from the racing world outside the passenger window,

“Hank … I seem to be experiencing a strange feeling I’m not familiar with …” his gaze flicked down to his hands, watching as his fingers picked at the fabric of his recently pressed trousers. After a few moments of deafening silence, the android finally looked up to his partner who’s eyes were still trained on the road but there was an unreadable emotion behind them,

“Son, why don’t you try explaining it as best you can and we’ll see if my old ass can help” the older man finally answered, flicking his gaze towards the other for a second. Both knew of Hanks inability to read emotions and his very bad handle of them but he was also a man who secretly tried to help where he could and had been there for Connor thousands of times but if anyone ever asked, they would be going home with a black eye.

Connor thought for a while, watching as the Detroit community continued with their every day lives, he had trouble explaining his emotions to Markus when he was trying to learn and especially to Hank since the ex-alcoholic had a very bad habit of ignoring his own but he knew he would need to try, problems on a case would be difficult and as Connor had learnt … well, in reality, he had taken the advice of Evie Frye from an old game Hank had shown him, ‘never let emotions compromise a mission’, and well, it was pretty good advice,

“I don’t know how to describe what I’m feeling … It’s almost like … like something is causing my Thirium pump to accelerate in speed” Connor started, trying to think of some of the best ways to describe what he felt, “I also seem to have this overwhelming urge to turn around and go home and never come back, which is confusing as I’m more than ready to restart my work as a detective” the android continued, watching the older man closely, their journey slowly coming closer and closer to its end. Hank sighed, he didn’t need to be good with emotions to know just how Connor felt, he just didn’t know what specific thing was causing it, however, he knew it was one of two things; going back to work after about almost a year or Gavin and he was going to guess it was the latter,

“Connor, listen to me, this feeling you have, the awful drop in your stomach, the excruciating beating of you heart, it’s just nervousness, you’re scared and I’m going to guess it’s not about being a detective again” Hank questioned, amazingly for an android, Connor was pretty damn easy to read and the lieutenant just wanted to help, “Con, I know you’re scared about seeing Gavin again but I know you, I know that you are strong and I know that you’ll make the choices you think are right, even without that little probability thing you have, you can get through this day perfectly fine” the man stated as he pulled the car into his usual spot, turning off the engine so he could turn to look at his son, “Son, you can get through this and I know you can, you don’t need to be nervous” he said before slipping himself out of the car, leaving Connor in thought for a moment.

The Android didn’t realize he was scared, he had never felt this type of scared before, it was so much different from the fear of playing a scary game or watching a horror movie but now that he knew of this emotion, he couldn’t help but feel slightly worried that it would affect him more than it was; at least he had most of the precinct to talk him out of it.

Finally, Connor moved from the car, moving quickly to catch up to Hank who was already stood at the door of the station, watching the android from a distance. They stepped inside together and almost instantly, the receptionists smiled upon seeing him, it was the same Android he had met the first day he came. With a quick hello and a little chatter about both being able to return to what they loved doing, Connor followed Hank with a bit more of a skip in his step and a smile on his face. Rounding the corner, they came face to face with the doors to the bull pen, making the happy little Android freeze and become slightly timid than he’s ever been before.

When Hank couldn’t hear the perfectly rhythmic footsteps behind him, the man turned to see the once smiling Connor stood completely still, for a moment, he was scared the boy had shut down from how motionless he was until he saw the blink of his eyes; He walked back towards his son and placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder, smiling reassuringly,

“Connor, you’re gonna be fine, tell me your stress level” he demanded softly, trying to keep his voice steady and low for him,

“74%” Connor whispered, his eyes moved from the point they were focused on in front of him to gaze at the commotion of the precinct only to receive a squeeze to his shoulder as Hank tried to keep him calm,

“Connor, I know you don’t need them but deep breaths, you can do this, Chris and the others have been excited to see you” he stated happily, trying to coax Connor into going in, “You can do this, Son” Hank slowly took his hand away, moving back towards the bullpen, if Connor was ready, he’d follow and he knew he had the moment he heard everyone around him cheer, the one sentence on their lips,

“WELCOME BACK CONNOR”

And Connor felt more than welcomed, once he had received his badge and gun from Fowler, doing some quick paperwork, Connor was back in the bullpen, surrounded by all his old colleagues and hopefully new friends; the entire day was taken up by talking, laughing, joking, opening the gifts everyone had left for him and questions about the year that passed and Connor couldn’t have been happier.

Chris and Tina were the ones who mainly stayed around Connors desk the entire day, others coming and going as they had some work to do but those two had been curious about everything, their questions consisted of; What is it like living with Hank? What did you do? Did you make friends? Is there anyone special your life? Simple gossipy questions which made Connor smile wider than he had in the past year.

There was only one person in the entire Precinct, one person who hadn’t moved from his desk and hadn’t spoken to Connor once, Gavin Reed. The man hadn’t even gone to get himself a coffee, he didn’t dare move from the position he was in, on the fear he would be stopped by someone; his head was down and a pair of headphones shoved in his ears but the slight movement on his eyes towards Connor would be enough evidence to anyone that he desperately wanted to join them all, join Tina and Chris, celebrate and smile … but after what he did, he couldn’t.

It wasn’t until closer to the end of the day that movement from Gavin was seen by anyone; the man stood suddenly, startling quite a few people around him, silence filled the room as everyone watched the rugged, sleep deprived man make his way through the large space of the bullpen towards the one desk he hadn’t been seen near in a very, very long time. Before anyone could stop him, not even Hank was quick enough, he was stood beside the once empty desk; his hands shoved deep in his pockets as his gaze pointed to the floor, finally, his mouth opened to speak,

“Tin-C … I mean, Connor, listen, I … erm … I want to apologise for everything I d-“ before he could finish, Connor stood, turning to look at the man who had taunted him for weeks with a stone cold expression on his face,

“No, you listen to me, Reed, I don’t want your apologies, I don’t want your ‘I’m deeply sorry’ speech or ‘I regret what I did to you’ because I don’t want to hear any of that” he started, his expression never changing once as everyone stared with their jaws on the floor and their eyes the size of sauce pans, “Detective, you really hurt me, I may not have felt most emotions back when we first met but when I think back, I realize how much of a complete asshole you were to me … Detective, you tried to kill me” he stated, anyone in the room could see the regret and heartbreak on Gavins face as he continued to stare at the floor, “I thought about that the past year I wasn’t here, I thought of the words you said and the glares you sent my way … and I worked through them with Markus and Hanks help, I can identify emotions and get through them better than my first few months as a newly turned Deviant …” Connor explained, his expression softening a little as he took a single stepped towards Gavin, making the detective look up confused, “That’s why I forgave you months ago, I heard about what you did for me, I heard about your suggestion on my uniform, the way you’ve been acting … and this is why I’m restarting it all” he stated, watching as Gavin looked around more than confused.

Hank slowly stood from his desk, even though it was going against what he thought Connor should do to the prick, he watched on with a proud fatherly expression as everyone else watched on in utter disbelief.

Connor smiled softly as he held his hand out in front of him, waiting for Gavin to take, which he slowly did, still utterly confused over everything that was happening, especially the current handshake,

“Hello, my names Connor Anderson and I’ll be working here along side you, I hope that we can be friends” he finally finished, a proper smile gracing his face. The rugged detective in front of him smiled, for the first time in a long time, he smiled, shaking Connors hand properly before he spoke,

“It’s nice to meet you Connor, I’m Gavin, Gavin Reed”

[lilacmoon83]

Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 203: A Grand Deception

David parked the car and hurried out toward the field. He was slightly late, but fortunately their was still a lot of game left and he spotted his wife and daughter in the stands. He watched Margaret's eyes light up upon seeing him and felt his heart flutter. It always did when he saw her and she was near. She had confessed that hers did the same and it was the most remarkable feeling either of them had ever experienced.

"Hey...sorry I'm late," he said, as he leaned down and kissed her.

"You're just in time," she replied, as he sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms. They smiled at each other and shared another kiss. They got a few side eyes from other parents, but that was nothing unusual.

They had always known they were different from many other couples and the honeymoon faze had never ended for them. She rested her head against his shoulder, as they watched the game.

"Oh...he's got the ball…" Summer called, as they watched their son with bated breath. Bobby made his move toward the goal, weaving through the other players and took his shot. The ball sailed passed the goalie and into the net. They were on their feet, cheering loudly and the game went along, with their son dominating, quickly impressing his coach with clear, athletic prodigy.

Soon, they were down to the final seconds of the game and Bobby was making his way down the field with some more incredible footwork.

"He's amazing…" Margaret gushed.

"Well...he is ours," David agreed, as they held each other and cheered, as their son stunned the crowd, fellow players, and his coach by making another goal with a fancy flip shot to kick the ball into the goal. The ball sailed passed the goalie again and this time, actually made a hole in the net.

"Wow...what a kick!" David cheered for their son.

"Oh...he's amazing. I guess our daughter isn't the only one with athletic ability," Margaret gushed, as she put her arm around their daughter. Summer looked down shyly. Her parents never missed an opportunity to brag about either of them.

"Someone should really tell baby bro that he's not actually supposed to put a hole in the net though," she joked.

"My my...that was quite the goal, I believe it is? I'm afraid I'm not much on sports," a new voice said, as Margaret turned to find Dr. Jenkins there, observing the game.

"Oh...Dr. Jenkins, what a surprise," Margaret said. He smiled.

"I know, I thought I should finally take the advice of my other colleagues and get out of the lab for a bit for some fresh air and see what all the fuss is about. These sports functions certainly draw quite the crowd, which translates to funding for the school, after all," he said. She nodded.

"So...that is your boy there?" he asked. She nodded proudly, as her son had the ball again, causing her daughter and husband to start cheering for him. He scored again in the final seconds and they cheered loudly together. Dr. Jenkins watched the man with his new colleague pick her up and spin her around, as they cheered. He felt a stab of jealousy, as he stared at the raven haired beauty. He had found her to be simply remarkable in both beauty and skills as an educator. He did not find that often and had been simply enthralled by her ever since their earlier introduction.

"He is killing it!" David cheered and she chuckled at his enthusiasm, before noticing the doctor again.

"Oh baby...this is the head of the science department here, Dr. Jenkins," Margaret introduced, as David shook his hand.

"Dr...this is my husband, David," she said.

"Nice to meet you," David said.

"Likewise…" the doctor said in a tight voice.

"But you can call me Ian," he corrected. David nodded, as his attention went back to their son

"My...he has quite a grip. Is your husband an athlete as well?" Ian asked.

"No...but that is definitely where our children get their athletic ability. I can barely run in a straight line," she joked.

"But actually David is with the Federal Bureau of Investigation," Margaret replied.

"That's...impressive and explains the muscles," he muttered, but fortunately Margaret took his comment as a joke and chuckled.

"He's my hero," she said, glancing at him with a dreamy stare, which gave the doctor another pulse of envy. He knew he wasn't much to look at and had never been one to have women falling all over him. But his intellect had drawn a few his way, more than some might think, as some women found his brains to be very attractive. But it never worked out. While it was his genius that drew them to him, it was also his genius that eventually drove them away. He was obsessive, in both work and relationships, and eventually poisoned any romance. Usually once the newness died down, his obsessiveness with work left anyone else in his life neglected and the few that had been able to keep his attention were eventually driven away by his same obsessiveness when it was directed upon them.

Margaret seemed to be different though. She was not only incredibly fair, quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on, but her intellect put her on a tier above any others he had ever known. He was surprised she didn't have her own doctorate and suspected that the man next to her was responsible for holding her back. With any luck, working together would make her realize how much potential she was wasting on "family life".

Bobby sprinted over to them finally, having been smothered with accolades by his teammates for basically winning the game for them and Margaret hugged him excitedly.

"Oh honey...you were so great!" she gushed, as she kissed his cheek.

"Mom…" he complained in embarrassment, as his father put his hands on his shoulders and congratulated him as well.

"We're so proud of you," David said.

"Yeah...but you do know that you're just supposed to get the ball in the net and not through it," Summer teased. He shrugged.

"Guess I don't know my own strength," he joked back and then looked at his parents.

"I guess some of the parents are taking their kids out for pizza and they asked us if we want to go. Can we?" Bobby asked. They smiled at each other and then back at him.

"Sure...that sounds fun and you're probably starved," Margaret said, as she noticed her colleague still loitering awkwardly. She kind of felt bad for him, for he seemed so lonely and awkward in social situations. But if she was being honest, he kind of unnerved her too. He seemed kind and interested in working with her, so she naturally chided herself for those feelings. Still...something in the back of her mind told her to keep this man at arm's length.

"Well...I suppose I will see you tomorrow, Margaret. Have a lovely evening," he said, as he walked away.

"Ready?" David asked, as he put his arm around her. She smiled at him and they walked to the car with their kids, unaware of the doctor's gaze on them.

~*~

Fandral walked through the portal and it closed behind him. They had concealed a chamber behind a bookcase in the library to use as their secret way of transporting to Bald Mountain when needed. In his considerable years, Fandral had seen rulers like Seth before and perhaps if he wasn't so childlike at times, they would have had a harder time building their resistance under his nose.

His power was nothing to balk at, as he could break bones and turn minds to mush with just a thought. But he was petulant, impulsive, and easily distracted. Though he may have been thousands of years old, he seemed stunted with a teenage mentality.

In many ways, it made him more dangerous than a wiser tyrant might be. But these character flaws had become of much use to them in their manipulations. Charming took full advantage of Seth's shortsightedness and Fandral's tactical genius in the art of war had become invaluable as well.

Charming easily distracted the supreme ruler with flashy shows of power, almost daily faux executions that were always a grand show, and a multitude of other distractions. Still, the subterfuge was taxing and weighed heavily on them both, especially since they knew Mephisto was getting increasingly suspicious of them and knew he would blow them all out of the water if he could. They had discussed neutralizing him, but did not yet have a plan to do so yet. They both knew though that it was their beloved wives that truly kept them from losing their minds and their hope in all this.

As the bookcase slid aside and allowed him to exit the small chamber, a genuine smile came to his face. As usual, she was an absolute vision. She sat in a comfy chair, her hair in a messy braid and draped over her shoulder. She was buried in a book, as he often found her, with her shoeless feet folded up beneath her skirt.

"You're staring again," she cooed playfully to him without looking up from her book.

"How can I not when the most beautiful woman in all the realms is before me?" he retorted, as he leaned down and she tugged him down by the collar until their lips met in a tender, passionate kiss.

"You seem a bit stressed, my love. More than usual," she mentioned, as she shifted so he could sit with her in the oversized chair. He pulled her into his lap and kissed her again.

"Midas has joined the ranks of the resistance," he mentioned.

"And his loud mouth has given you quite the headache," she said knowingly.

"Abigail must be beside herself. Is there no way we can tell her what's really going on?" Rose asked.

"Charming thinks it's too risky. Having Midas there is almost too risky, but it was better than the alternative and letting Mephisto actually kill him," Fandral answered.

"He is a boisterous fool, but I think if he realizes the dangers to Abigail if he doesn't cooperate, then I'm sure he'll watch himself," Rose reasoned. He nodded.

"We think so too," he agreed, as he pressed a kiss to her hair.

"I'm just happy that we remember everything...or that you do and woke me up," she mentioned, as she looked at him fondly.

Once the curse had hit, Fandral discovered that he had retained his memories and though they had no idea why, they chalked it up to him being Asgardian. When Charming realized he was still awake, he quickly clued Fandral in on his and Winter's plan for everything. It had given them an extra pair of allies they didn't know they were going to have. Fandral had worried that he wouldn't be able to let Rose in on the ruse, but since Seth was such a monumentally evil being, an entire field of pink poppies had sprouted around the base of Mount Olympus. Rumpelstiltskin had informed him that the poppies only grew in the presence of great evil and had the power to return memories.

So he had presented a bouquet to her that first morning after the curse was cast, kissed her, and awakened her to a world cursed. But he was glad he had her to take solace in.

"I worry about you so much, my love…" she expressed.

"I'm okay, my angel," he assured.

"If Seth were to discover what we are doing prematurely...I could lose you," she said.

"You will not lose me and Charming said that it might not be long now," he replied. She lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him.

"Really?" she asked. He nodded.

"Apparently, the doctor has found his way to Snow and we know his madness will create havoc," he replied.

"Once Snow and David awaken...they'll return and it will be time to break the curse and take Seth down," Rose said. He nodded.

"It will not be easy...if I'm honest, I'd rather you not be near the coming battle, but I know I also need you next to me," he confessed. She smiled and kissed him tenderly.

"I shall never be anywhere else," she said, as they got up and joined hands.

"Let's go tuck the twins in and go to bed," she suggested.

"Sleepy?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"Not yet...but I'm sure I'll be exhausted when you're done with me," she replied coyly.

"Oh I assure you...we both will be," he agreed, as they left the library for the evening.

~*~

Winter cuddled her granddaughter and the toddler cooed at her. It had been a wonderful day, at least after they had dealt with the messiness that required her husband to appear to be someone ruthless and evil. But that was not her husband. While he may have been the darker half of David Nolan Charming, he was not evil and she knew his duties for Seth often weighed heavily on him. He hid it well and his genuine smiles for their children and grandchildren kept them in the dark mostly about their dilemma. But their grown children and adult grandchild in Henry knew the alternative for their grandfather was frightening too and they did not have their true memories. In this life, no one refused the will of Seth. He ruled with an unrelenting iron fist, even if he was prone to childish tantrums and a sadistic whim. Charming knew how to handle him, appease him, and save most of their people from a much grizzlier fate than any of them knew.

For their children, they knew that their father was a good man, despite the things he had to do for Seth. They knew that he did those things for them and that they all had good and fairly peaceful lives, because of his dedication to protect them all.

Emma did not know she was the Savior anymore. They had used the curse to remove that burden from her and Winter knew it was one burden that her husband was happy to shoulder for her, even if it would only be for the duration of the curse. But she prayed it was almost over now. Rumpelstiltskin had informed them that Jekyll, though not yet awake, had managed to find his way to her counterpart's cursed self, Margaret Nolan. And she knew that in no time, his madness would awaken Snow and David. Then the battle for their very existence would begin.

She worried about him, so to see him smile with their children did much for her troubled heart. And she couldn't wait for the moment that Seth would pay for all of this. While her lighter half still would never advocate for revenge, Winter wanted it so badly on Seth that she could taste it. She wanted him to be turned to ash, which seemed impossible for a supreme Titan God like him, but she had been doing her research and had enlisted Rose and Belle's help in it as well. That's why she was reading this incredible boring old Tome about the ancient beings that existed around the time that Seth had been birthed into the world by his mother Rhea as the giant serpent Typhon. She was trying to find more clues on how to kill him versus simply just banishing him as Apollo and Artemis had done. So far though, she had nothing. Nothing except her youngest son using his star seed, but she absolutely refused to risk that. She was not losing Bobby. It was hard enough to be without him here, but at least she knew he was safe out there and happy in the Land Without Magic, free of any burden he would have with this on his shoulders.

Rumpelstiltskin was telling her continuously that her children were destined to face great evil, but Winter was intent on finding another way and Charming was insistent on shouldering the burden of taking Seth down from the inside, if possible. But for now, she had pushed the dusty old book aside and doted on her baby granddaughter.

Hope giggled and smiled up at her, making her cold heart melt and the tiny one played with her apple pendant. She didn't worry, for the pure power of the chalice inside her necklace would never harm such pure innocence and someone of their bloodline.

"Yes...you're Nana's sweet girl, aren't you?" She cooed.

"Are you sure you and Daddy don't mind watching her for the evening?" Emma asked.

"Are you kidding? You know we love it," Winter assured her, as Charming put his arm around her and the little girl cooed up at him.

"Yeah...there's Papa…" she cooed, as her husband took the baby in his arms.

"Okay, thanks...we shouldn't be too late," Emma said, as she and Killian left. They would probably go to dinner and then for a short ride on the Jolly Roger for a nice evening out.

"Come on sweetie...let's go to the nursery so you can see what Nana and Papa got you," Winter cooed and Emma rolled her eyes.

"They've gone and spoiled her rotten again," she pretended to complain. Killian chuckled.

"Aye love, but I believe that is what grandparents do," he reminded, as they left together for their date night.

~*~

Chemicals boiled at a full roar in the beaker and the glass clinked together, as Dr. Jenkins worked painstakingly through another experiment. He was certain he had the right formula this time, especially since he had managed to borrow a laboratory at Boston University from an acquaintance. He was using it during the wee hours of the morning so as to not be seen, in case this one went badly too. His experimentation would be considered madness, but he was certain that if he was successful, he could be on the cusp of a monumental breakthrough that would change the face to the mental health industry.

From an early time, Ian could remember dark and impure thoughts impeding his life. While he had always been brilliant and focused on his work, these dark and impure thoughts had negative consequences. He had left Great Britain shortly after he finished getting his first doctorate out of necessity.

At the school he had attended, he had fallen in love with the daughter of the dean in charge of the science department, but she had wanted nothing to do with him. After enough rejection to his pursuit of her, he had given into those dark and impure thoughts by assaulting her one evening. When he had come to his senses and realized what he had done, he had fled the country and changed his name to avoid being found.

He settled into America with his new identity and went onto complete his education with two more doctorates, but what had happened that night still haunted him.

The worst part was that he didn't really regret what he had done. He viewed her rejection as unfair and unjust. So many others found love, but never him and he didn't think that was right. He deserved love too and wanted to have it no matter what.

He was a smart man though and knew those dangerous thoughts would only lead to his incarceration, so he started experimenting on a way to rid himself of those bad impulses by experimenting with a serum that would be considered wildly unethical and dangerous by not only the scientific community, but the medical community as well. Still, if he could prove it could be done, he could purport a solution to violent criminals and mentally ill people, in theory anyhow.

So far though, his four experiments had been epic failures, resulting in some very unfortunate circumstances for the objects of his experimentation. They had, so far, all been students that had well known drug habits, which was lucky for him since he expected all the deaths to be ruled as accidental overdoses, but things were getting very risky, so he had decided to change his victim pool. Student deaths, though each one had been from a different college, was getting too suspicious.

Instead, he decided to resort to using transient people to experiment on. They were often known to be drug users and he surmised that no one would miss a homeless person. He was certain that he was close though and if he succeeded, then he would no longer be imbued with these monstrous thoughts and finally be liberated from the darkness. And he only hoped he could do it soon, for the thoughts in his head since he had met Margaret Nolan had been very lewd and inappropriate.

The fantasies were becoming very prominent in his mind. He kept imaging himself in a classroom with her and grabbing her arms. He imagined the fear in her eyes, as he forced her down onto her desk and took what he desired from her. He imagined her fear and her tears and it excited him. It was sick and twisted and if he were to avoid eventual incarceration for acting on any of these dark thoughts, he had to rid himself of these thoughts.

That didn't mean he wouldn't pursue Margaret in the meantime though. No, he only hoped that in absence of those dark thoughts, he would be able to seduce her away from her husband and claim her for his own. He knew it was a tall order. He wasn't a stupid man and had seen her husband, after all. He only hoped to appeal to her intellect. He didn't even know her husband, but he already loathed him. He knew the type. Handsome, charming, very fit and aesthetically pleasing. Probably treated her like a princess and righteously served the his agency in the pursuit of justice. The type to solve problems with his might rather than brain, or so he assumed.

Margaret was a rare woman though and he wanted her; he had to have her so that was why this experiment had to work.

He siphoned the serum into a vial and then filled a syringe, before leaving the lab to find the guinea pig he had set up for that evening's experiment. That required him to venture outside the science building and walk through the campus. Fortunately, that time of night, even most of the students were asleep and campus security thought nothing of seeing him, as he was here from time to time. He rounded the corner and found the man in the alleyway. He had given him food and water before and then promised that if he waited there, he would have a new drug that, while experimental, would give him a high like none other. And he was pleased to find the man still there.

"You...you have it?" the addict questioned. He was almost in full withdraw by now and shaking horribly.

"I do...it's your lucky night," the doctor said, as the man rolled his sleeve up. Dr. Jenkins was appalled by all the needle marks in the dirty man's arm. If it didn't work, he doubted anyone would miss such a cretin. He injected the man and waited with bated breath, as he began to convulse violently.

"This...this doesn't feel right…" he uttered, as he started seizing and then was holding his head in agony. He started screaming and stumbled away, as he fell and flailed wildly.

"The...the voices…" he screamed, as he held his head and climbed to his feet. He stumbled toward the street and right in front of a bus. Dr. Jenkins had watched the whole spectacle in a fury of disappointment and once the man was ended, he slipped away before the authorities could get there. He had failed once again and he was livid, but tomorrow was another day. Transient people were a dime a dozen and he was certain no one would bother with a deranged homeless drug addict. Tomorrow, he would find another test subject and he would keep doing so until he had success.

~*~

A vague chirping pulled him from a blissful sleep, as he held his beloved wife in his arms and he reluctantly rolled away from her to grab the offending device. Through bleary eyes, he managed to read the text from his boss and sighed, as he blinked to wake up. It was four in the morning, they had another body and he had to go.

"Mmm...baby?" Margaret cooed, as she noticed the absence of his warmth against her.

"Sorry...didn't mean to wake you, my darling," he whispered, as he kissed her hair.

"You have to go?" she asked.

"Afraid so," he replied, as he pecked her on the lips and got up to start getting dressed.

"Okay...please be careful," she pleaded. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her again.

"I will...go back to sleep. I'll call you when I can," he promised, as she drifted off to sleep again and he quietly left.

~*~

Nephilim

Mephisto angrily tromped around his realm. Since the curse, Seth had rebuilt his own palace on Olympus. It was large and golden, with statues of himself everywhere in true narcissistic fashion. That left Nephilim mostly barren, except for the souls of the dead and a few of his own demonic minions that were loyal to him. But Mephisto was not feared by mortals and heroes, nor was he regarded highly by the villainous. He had been thoroughly usurped by Prince Charming, Seth's Executioner and warrior of darkness, as well as his fair, little upstart of a wife, Winter. They were aptly feared, yet respected by most in the realms and regarded in high esteem.

When Seth threw a tantrum or wanted something, his right hand was there to appease his every whim and give their Lord what he wanted. But Mephisto knew manipulation when he saw it. He was a master of himself, after all.

He hated Prince Charming with a passion. He had always been a being full of malice and hatred, but none had pissed him off on a personal level quite so much as Prince Charming had. Not since Johnny Blaze anyway, whom he had cursed and been defied by time and again. Blaze had defeated him spectacularly and used the powers given to him by Mephisto for good, as sickening as it was. He had also killed Mephisto's unruly son as well, but all of that seemed to pale in comparison to the humiliation dealt to him by Prince Charming.

He was supposed to be Seth's right hand; his executioner. His realm was supposed to be filled with the souls of the dead and there had been many Charming had killed for Seth in the last two years. He used the chalice to do so and when Mephisto had confronted him about why none of the souls occupied Nephilim, Charming gave him the simple and plausible explanation that the chalice naturally sent those souls to the Underworld for their final judgement. Seth easily bought it, because it was how death worked in this realm, but something about it still seemed off for Mephisto. He usually was able to see the souls of the dead if they lingered after death, but he had never seen any. Every single soul had apparently moved on immediately to the Underworld with no trace of their astral presence in this realm, post execution. He found that very strange and suspect. But Seth never listened to anything he had to say. Charming had convinced the childish God that he was a fool and could not be trusted to carry out any important duties. Charming had charmed their Lord quite thoroughly and blatantly manipulated him right in front of everyone's faces. He was making a fool out of the supreme God and Seth was too blinded by his own arrogance and narcissism to see it. But Mephisto could and he yearned to prove it. He wanted to expose whatever nefarious plot that the Charmings were involved in and then make them pay. The tortures he had in mind for that smug prince were devious and he wanted nothing more than to realize them. But that meant he had to prove Charming's betrayal and that was not going to be easy.

The Charmings were careful and already wary of him. They made sure their movements couldn't be tracked and they were never followed. Which meant he had to find a way around those protections. If he could prove that they were frauds to Seth, then he would regain the respect and power he had once enjoyed.

But he needed help to expose them. That wouldn't be easy. Most of their enemies were either dead or didn't remember. And some weren't even a worthy threat anymore. They were far too powerful with that damn chalice in their possession. Each of them had half of it, his sword and her pendant. They had cast their lighter halves out into the Land Without Magic without their half of the chalice or so he thought. But there were ways around their power, he knew. They had shielded their entire castle with the chalice magic to keep prying eyes out and Seth was foolish enough to think nothing of it. But they had three grown children, two grandchildren, one being very small, and a great grandchild in young Lucy. Threatening one of the brats would force their compliance, but doing so without Seth finding out was another matter. The Charmings had him completely under their spell and were practically his puppet master. It made Mephisto sick. Even dark, they were everyone's darlings. But it was time to change the tides and figure out a way to dethrone them.

Fortunately, there was one man that everyone had forgotten. One that would be willing to be his pawn if it meant the promise of revenge on the ones that had taken everything from him and regain his stolen Throne. One that could do real damage if he had the necessary power.

He approached the forgotten cell in the prison and peered in on the occupant. This man had once been destined to be a great King, prophesied by Merlin himself. But his obsession with making Excalibur whole had led him down a dark path and forever disgraced him in history. But the promise of regaining his former glory would make him the perfect pawn to help him take down the Charmings.

"Who the hell are you?" the haggard man drawled. Mephisto's hand began to smoke and the tendrils of black smoke drifted into the cell. The man inhaled the smoke and recognition returned to his glazed, cursed eyes.

"Welcome back...King Arthur," Mephisto drawled.

"What...what's going on?" he asked, as he looked at his hands. He was dirty and disheveled, but he now remembered everything.

"There is a new curse and I have just returned your memories," Mephisto stated.

"Why?" the former King asked suspiciously.

"I need your help...to take down the Charmings," he responded. Arthur gritted his teeth and his eyes filled with fury.

"You must have a lot of magic if you think you can stand against them," he surmised. Mephisto smirked.

"I do...and I can give you powers too," he tempted.

"I am no amateur, demon...what is the price for this power?" he questioned. Mephisto chuckled.

"You are wise...and correct. There is a price and I will not deceive you, though that is my usual nature," he stated.

"The price is steep...but you would have a hand in a grand revenge and I promise I can seat you back upon the Throne of Camelot...your destiny," Mephisto promised.

"And my price for this?" Arthur questioned again.

"Your soul," Mephisto stated.

"A bit vague...what exactly does the price of my soul entail?" Arthur demanded to know. Mephisto smirked. Oh yes, this one would do nicely as a pawn. Smart, but willing to do whatever it took for power and revenge.

"I own you...for eternity. But the power you'll receive in return will give you everything you want. You will feed me with the damned souls I require to rebuild my empire and in return, you will have your Throne," Mephisto promised.

"And the Charmings?" he questioned.

"Oh...we will make them pay and you will be essential to help me do so," Mephisto tempted.

"I want you to offer the same to my most trusted Knight...Gawain. He is loyal to me, but will serve you well also," Arthur said.

"Offering me another man's soul without asking him first?" Mephisto asked deviously. This guy really was the worst and would be much more reliable than that stupid doctor, though he had returned to killing lately, which was mildly pleasing to him as he had those souls now as well.

"Gawain hates the Charmings as much as me...trust me, he'll want in," Arthur offered.

"It's a deal then, Your Majesty," Mephisto said, as he offered his glowing hand through the bars. Arthur looked at it and then took it and his agonized cries filled the prison, as he experienced the consequences of the deal he made. He felt his soul be pulled from his body briefly and watched in amazement, as his ethereal form was fitted with golden shackles, before it was thrust back inside his body. The magic and dark power he now possessed washed over his body and he gazed at the flames in his hand with a mad delight.

"You'll want to clean yourself up and trim that disgusting beard. You need to look the part of a King again," Mephisto said, as he moved to the next cell to offer the same deal to Sir Gawain…

~*~

David got out of his car, as he arrived at the scene, just outside the Boston University campus boundaries. It made him really nervous now that there was a murder so close to the same college his daughter attended and he hoped his boss had a few more answers now than she had yesterday.

He flashed his badge to the guarding officer and slipped under the crime scene tape. Onlookers, including many students, were starting to gather and he knew that meant they weren't going to be able to keep this under wraps much longer. He was a bit surprised when he got to the scene where the body was though. He was expecting another student, but as he pulled back the tarp, he noticed this man didn't look at all like a student. It was a gruesome scene, as the man had been hit by a bus and he put the tarp back down.

"Okay...I'm a bit confused. Your text said that we had another body, as in connected to the first four. But this guy...is different," he said.

"Initially...I thought so too," she said, as she showed him photos of his arm, which was littered with needle pricks.

"He's a homeless drug addict. He was probably high as a kite and wandered into traffic," Pat said.

"Sounds pretty open and shut," David replied.

"Oh, that's what we're meant to think. But witnesses say they heard someone screaming in agony just before this happened within the vicinity. What they described hearing matches a lot of what was happening to the last victim of this new drug we're seeing," she said.

"Wait...you think someone dosed this guy with the same stuff?" David asked.

"We won't know for sure until the toxicology report comes back, but my gut says so," she replied. His brow furrowed in confusion.

"Okay...but why change victimology? I mean, most serial killers don't change their victim pool, even when it gets too risky," David said.

"Unless we're wrong on that and this isn't really a serial killer," she replied, as she led him to the tent they had set up nearby with a table inside. She had the previous four victim files spread out.

"The only common denominator that these four have is that they were students with a known drug abuse history. Other than that, their races and genders are all over the place," she told him.

"Okay...so if it's not about students, then our perp looks for drug abusers?" David asked. She nodded.

"It would make sense in the change of victimology. Students are getting too risky and too many dead students is going to start attracting all kinds of attention. But dead homeless people? No one cares," she said. He sighed. It was sad and callous, but true.

"Okay...so if it's not about killing for this guy, then what is it?" David asked, as she flipped open another file folder.

"Possibly experimentation," she offered.

"We just got the analysis of the drug found in all four students back and I suspect we'll find the same one in the homeless man," she said, as she showed him the specs.

"It's unlike anything our analysts have seen before. The hallucinogen properties are off the charts. We've never seen a drug that causes such a rapid mental breakdown with only one dose, especially in such a miniscule amount," she said.

"Wait...one tiny dose? If this happened with one dose, then how can they be ruling these deaths as accidental overdoses?" David asked.

"That ruling has changed now. One dose has caused complete mental breakdown and so much physical strain on the organs that these first three died of heart failure. These last two would have probably suffered the same if our last student hadn't jumped off a building first and this man hadn't wandered into traffic. We're reclassifying all these deaths as homicides," Pat replied. He sighed and looked at all the victims.

"So...he's looking for guinea pigs to test his drug on. Student drug abusers are getting too risky, so he's moved onto homeless people," David surmised.

"It's our running theory," she agreed.

"So...what is he expecting this drug to do that it's obviously not doing without killing these people?" David questioned.

"That's the million dollar question and if he's getting desperate, we may soon see more and more victims, willing or not," she replied. He sighed.

"We need to find this guy," he said, as he looked at her.

"I know this isn't about students, but do you think we can put a couple agents on duty to watch this campus?" he asked. She smiled.

"Summer will be fine...but I've already assigned two agents to this campus," she replied. He smiled.

"Thanks...I know I shouldn't ask for favors like that," he said, but she put her hand on his arm.

"Hey...I love them too," she assured, as they turned back to the files on the table.

"So...the person experimenting is obviously very smart," she said.

"Yeah...like a scientist or something," he replied, as his eyes widened and she read his expression, as she dialed the Boston office.

"I need an analyst to pull the names of all science department employees from MIT, Boston University, Harvard, and Bay State. Include any consultants or guest lecturers as well from the past two years. Top priority," she said.

~*~

Elsa's hands shook slightly, as they waited to receive their guest that morning. Seth made regular visits to all the Kingdoms and it was actually a rare occurrence in what had happened in Midas' Kingdom. The old King had refused to keep complying and pleasing their Lord and had been swiftly dealt with, as a result. But Seth was known to be prone to fits of rage out of no where. As she felt her husband take her hand, she calmed a bit.

"Everything will be fine, my love. We have prepared a grand offering to him and your ice sculpture in his likeness is impressive," Leo assured.

"I hope so...Arendelle enjoys such peace. I only hope we can continue to give that our people," she said, as the gates opened and they straightened, before approaching arm in arm to greet their visitors.

They bowed deeply to Seth, as he entered, with Mephisto flanking him on one side and Leo's parents on the other side.

"The ice sculpture in my likeness is quite impressive. Perhaps you will make more of them," Seth said.

"Of course, my Lord...I can make as many as you like," Elsa replied.

"We have had a grand feast prepared in your honor, my Lord. All of Arendelle's finest delicacies," Leo added, as they bowed deeply to him.

"Good...a much better reception than I received yesterday in Midas' Kingdom. That shall bode well for Arendelle and its rulers," Seth said, as he moved toward the center of the room. All the staff and citizens bowed to him and began to cater to his every whim.

"Don't worry...he has no qualm with Arendelle and he enjoyed the ice sculpture. Feed and entertain him and this will be a peaceful visit," Charming assured them, as he put a hand on his son's shoulder. Leo nodded and the music and festivities, all in honor and dedication to Seth, began.

~*~

Fandral sheathed his sword in the scabbard on his hip and felt a pair of arms wrap around his midsection. He smiled and turned in the arms of the petite beauty that was his wife.

"Must you go?" she purred, as she kissed his cheek. Oh, how he wished he could just stay in bed with her all day, for he could never get enough of his sweet Rose.

"You know I would love nothing more, my angel...but training must resume. The Dark One thinks we are close to the end now. We must be ready when the resistance is revealed and we engage a war with Seth," he said. She nodded. She knew he was right and wondered if it was too much to hope to not only win, but to yearn for peace if they did defeat him. True peace and not the farce they were among now.

"We will have our happy ending, my Rose...and it shall only be a beginning," he promised, sensing her thoughts. She smiled up at him.

"I am happy, as long as I have you, my love...no matter what calamity we must face," she assured him, as he kissed her passionately.

"I'll return soon, my angel," he promised.

"And as always, I will be waiting. Your place is training our warriors and mine is researching ways to ensure our victory. I will do my part as you do yours," she promised in return. He kissed her again and then stepped into the secret chamber they had designed behind the bookcase, before portaling to Bald Mountain.

"You're late…" Grumpy complained, as the warrior strode beside him and they entered the training arena.

"Bout time you showed up. I'm not sure who is worse...you or Charming when it comes to pulling yourselves away," Regina griped, as she stood waiting with Robin at her side. When the curse hit, it had not taken Regina's memories or given her any cursed life, probably due to the fact that she had once been a caster of the curse. At Rumpelstiltskin's insistence, she had rebelled to stage her own execution and been one of the first exiled to Bald Mountain and changed it from a volcanic death trap to the training arena and barracks that it was. Robin had been devastated and tried to fight Charming for "killing" her, thus resulting in his own faux execution. Upon arrival, his memories were returned and he joined the efforts in training all their initiates in archery combat. Fandral smirked.

"True love...you know how it is. Besides, it would seem that those two are just as bad," Fandral commented, as James and Aphrodite scurried in, looking a bit hurried and disheveled. The former Queen rolled her eyes.

"The children were a bit clingy this morning," Aphrodite said, making James chuckle to which she elbowed him.

"Right...blame it on your kids," Regina deadpanned, as they began training the various people that had come to be executed under Seth's rule. Aphrodite had not lasted long either and was one of the first. Seth hated his fellow Gods, so she, Hermes, and Athena all fell victim to his wrath quite early. Thankfully, it was Charming who carried out their sentences and they arrived here with memories restored. Naturally, James had nearly lost his mind when he thought Aphrodite had been taken from him and his brother had carried out his sentence as well, exiling him here.

"Let's just get to it," James said, as he unsheathed his sword. Archery, sword fighting, hand to hand combat training, and magical training then commenced...

[thewakingcloak]

On Creative Burnout and How to Get Stuff Done Without It

Over the past week or two I’ve had a bunch of conversations with people who were burned out and having a hard time. And this is a bit lengthy, but it goes out to you guys.

I hit some pretty nasty burnout in early 2018. I couldn't create anything for months. Even just *thinking* about making something made me mentally cringe away. I'd not only used up all my fuel, but I was also up against some tough tasks that I didn't know how to tackle. AND I was stressed and frustrated because I didn't think anyone was noticing The Waking Cloak. I felt like I wouldn't be able to make it "good enough" even for what I wanted it to be. I felt guilty because I thought I was letting people down who were following along with the project... and I wasn't delivering.

Sound familiar? Let's talk.

I got past the burnout and am working in a much healthier way now, a year later. But this took a shift in how I thought about working on creative projects. I used to be constantly working on The Waking Cloak because I thought that’s what it was going to take to finish it. I couldn’t afford to stop, because what if I never picked it back up again? Now I see things differently.

Part of this came from the general internet, part of it came from years of experience writing and critiquing (and now, y’know, actually applying it to game development), and part of it came from learning project management at work.

0. Before we start...

You can do this.

You’re not alone.

If you’re burned out, it gets better.

I’m around to talk if you need it.

1. The Creative Cycle AKA PLEASE REST OR YOU'LL HAVE A BAD TIME

This is a principle I learned from @emcheeseman on Twitter with this diagram:

To quote her: “Creators feel pressure to spend every second creating, but CREATIVITY IS A CYCLE between active productivity and dormant recovery.”

So the two sides of creativity: Action and Recovery. Too much Action, you get burnout. Too much Recovery and... you’re not doing anything. These two absolutely have to be kept in balance. If you're burned out, you need to spend more time recovering. If you're procrastinating, you need to spend time building up the momentum and taking action.

(Note: it’s important also learn to recognize the difference between the two versions of procrastination: some can come from burnout, in which case you need to recover, not work more.)

This is a cycle that should take place every day. When you're in balance, you'll be working on something creatively every day, but you'll also be resting. If you neglect either, you'll be thrown off balance and have to take remedial action--especially in the case of burnout.

This is because the creative mind is like a muscle. Muscles gain strength essentially by being torn and reknit together stronger. If you continuously work out the same muscles without giving them a chance to knit back together, you won't get stronger. This is why strength workouts have alternating days between muscle groups.

You know all those articles and studies coming out about how crunch is bad? All those big name game studios that required crunch and burned out all their developers? Guess what, the same principle applies to your personal creative work too. Crunch is bad. Somewhat counter-intuitively, just doing "more work" will actually make you less productive, while taking time to recover every day makes you significantly more productive. So don’t make yourself crunch. Not even if you’re enjoying what you’re working on.

I'll talk about Action later, but how about Recovery? Well, congratulations, I have good news! Having fun is now part of your creative process. Do something passive you enjoy. Play video games. Read a book, watch a TV show or movie. Go outside for a walk. Take things in. Don't feel guilty: this is vital for your creativity. What if you always exhaled without inhaling? Would you feel guilty for breathing in oxygen?

If you are currently burned out, you need to spend a lot of extra time recovering. The more you’re burned out, the more time it’ll take. That’s the part that sucks, but trust me on this. It will get better. You'll be able to tell after time. This can be days or weeks or longer, but you need to take it until both of these conditions are satisfied:

You no longer feel yourself mentally cringing away from creating something.

The idea of not creating something is unbearable

2. Motivation: creating for yourself, not to satisfy others' expectations

It's super important to come at creative projects with the right motivation. Even if you have a pretty decent Action/Recovery balance, if you're trying to please others, if you're often jealous of others, if you're comparing your work often, you will still get burned out. Creating with these as your motivation is a bit like trying to drive on fumes. It’s not sustainable, and you will run out of gas.

This is incredibly important but difficult to put into practice. How do you shift your motivations?

Some principles:

Creating for its own sake is valuable.

Other people are not competition. They are friends.

Other creative projects are not competition either--similar projects can, and should, and do exist in harmony. You can learn from one another.

If you work primarily from a standpoint of pleasing others, you are going to be very easy to disappoint.

Make what you want to make, for yourself, for your tastes particularly if this is your hobby.

The “validation machine” is tricky. At first, you’d be over the moon to have a hundred followers and maybe ten likes. Then a thousand followers and fifty likes. And on and on, all the way up--your expectations of validation will scale up. Don’t expect to keep getting high off those likes and retweets/reblogs. Make an effort to value every one of the people who follows you, even if it’s only five people.

All games are held together by duct tape and prayers. You're not alone!

Some of these are easier said than done. Just keep an eye out for these thoughts/emotions in yourself. If you notice them, take a moment, take a few deep breaths, and remind yourself what it's all about. Do you feel yourself getting jealous? Don't take it out on yourself (or anyone else). Try encouraging that person you're jealous of instead. Tell them what they're doing well, and not in the mopey "I wish I could do this as well as you" way. Instead, the "This [specific thing] is so good! Keep it up!" way. It's hard for jealousy to exist in the same place as encouragement, even if it takes a little bit to ebb.

Another suggestion is to write down the things that excite you about creating, about the specific project you’re working on, etc. This can be broad (“I like bringing my ideas to life”) or specific (“I always love exploring caves in video games and seeing what secrets they hold”). Keep this around and remind yourself of it. For The Waking Cloak, I love working on exploration, lore, and maps!

3. How to actually work and get stuff done

This is going to be the biggest point, but it revolves around a few foundational principles:

Work INCLUDES rest. It's part of the deal. You're not allowed to skip it. (see #1)

Short term goals are more important than long term deadlines (aka Agile "sprints")

Task-tracking and manageable, bite-sized chunks

One Thing a Day/Momentum

Do it fast, THEN do it right

Most of this is stuff I learned from my day job when we got our new head-of-department and jumping onto what's broadly known as DevOps principles. DevOps involves a lot more than I'm going to talk about here, but I bring it up because these aren't things I'm just making up because they sound nice. They're tried and tested, and they work.

So first, let's talk about short term goals.

Years ago (and sadly still too often today), common practice in software development was to plan big projects spanning months at a time, build the entire thing, and then deliver it. Major problems occur with this: requirements change, the world changes, technology changes, the users wanted/needed something different and you didn't know until they got it in their hands, etc.

The core problem is that nobody knows what's going to happen in the future, not with absolute certainty. I'm not joking when I say this: it's best to focus on short term goals and skip out on long term deadlines altogether. This is commonly in the form of two-week "sprints" which are geared towards delivering some complete functionality, not the entire project/software/game/etc. Here's why these work:

You have something achievable now. Two weeks of work is so much nicer than... months? years?

You get quicker feedback and can quickly adapt to these in the next sprint

Sometimes project/features of higher priority get discovered that you couldn’t have planned for

You're consistently finishing some chunk of functionality every two week sprint or every milestone. Progress feels nice!

Two week sprints don't necessarily work for all game projects, but the principle is the same: plan short-term, time-based goals, NOT functionality-based goals. If you're getting close to the deadline, move that functionality to the next "sprint", don't crunch any more than a day.

If you don't have a long-term deadline for your game set by external factors (publisher, need food to eat, etc.), and especially if you're doing this as a hobby, my advice is to not set a final deadline until you're more or less done with the game. Know what your major functionality is and a general order that you’ll work on this functionality in, but long-term deadlines are almost always unsustainable. You don't know what's going to pop up, you don't know how long certain features will take, etc. You can't predict the future. But you can create milestones.

In normal game development, this generally includes pre-alpha, alpha, beta, and so on. But for our purposes, we’ll want to redefine this and break it down even further. An alpha could take many months. I’m more interested in defining sets of features that can conceivably take a few weeks to two months, closer to a sprint.

In The Waking Cloak, these milestones are the ProtoDungeons. Each has a set of functionality (I only know the broad strokes, not the specific functionality each will contain--that only gets planned at the beginning of the specific ProtoDungeon). There will be eight of these, one for each of the player’s items, and they will be a self-contained dungeon. This is to:

Get quick feedback on how the items feel

Get practice building dungeon maps

Build a lot of the “unknown pieces” that you don’t generally think about--doors, triggers, camera transitions, pits, z-coordinate levels, and so forth.

I’ve only completely planned out one ProtoDungeon. It included the item mechanic and all the functionality mentioned in the last bullet point, but it also included more, like enemies and a boss. But then I cut everything that's unnecessary for getting these into the hands of some testers--so that meant a lot of this extraneous stuff got bumped to ProtoDungeon 2. That way, the quicker I get this demo out, the quicker I can improve for the next ProtoDungeon. The result is that working on the game feels very light and extremely productive.

Now that we have milestones and short-term goals, that brings us to tracking tasks.

I don't really care how you do this so much as I care that you do it in the first place! Tracking tasks is extremely important. Without, it can be easy to get lost in where you’re at in development. You have to hold everything in your brain, which is extra wear and tear.

I use Trello, which is free! At work we use Microsoft's Azure DevOps/VSTS and Kanban boards. You can even just use a notepad if that's what you like (though I suggest something where it’s easier to move stuff around, even if that’s Notepad on your computer). Once you have a place to keep track of stuff, I recommend creating some sections (I use Trello columns):

Backlog - tasks you're doing this milestone

Bugs/issues - you'll find these all the time :)

Doing - this is the bug or task you're working on. Only work on 1-2 things at a time. If you're not working on it, it goes back in the backlog

Complete - just a pile of your accomplishments! :D

And then here’s how you create your tasks for your “milestone”:

List out your major functionality

Break those functionalities into chunks

Break them into smaller chunks

Smaller

Still smaller

Are they now tiny? Can you do these tasks in a day or two maximum? No? Still smaller!

Stop when you're basically at the "atomic level" of tasks. They need to be bite-sized (if they’re ridiculously small, you can include them as part of a checklist on a single task)

Take all these tasks and dump them into your backlog!

As I mentioned, plan for the current milestone only. You can have a bucket of general tasks for future milestones and even a general idea of the order you want to accomplish these tasks in, but you're only planning for the current milestone and a bit into the next one.

Prioritize your tasks. You can put a number next to each task (1 being highest, 4 being lowest is what we do at work). Or if you're using Trello like me, you can drag the highest priority tasks up to the tops of the columns to work on next. I occasionally switch these around depending on what I feel like working on next, so don't feel like you have to strictly adhere to a specific set of priorities.

If you're feeling really snazzy, "weigh" your tasks. How long is this going to take? You can do this by hours, days, a generic numbering system, etc. Enough to let you know what's going to fit into a milestone and what needs to be moved to the next one. I don't think this is strictly necessary for a hobbyist project, but it's pretty vital for our day-to-day at work.

Also, you will discover more tasks as you work. "Oops, to do this, I need to add that." That's fine. Add it as a task, prioritize/organize it, and keep going.

Like rest, planning all this stuff out is hugely important but often missed because it doesn't feel like you're getting stuff done. It's deceptive. Taking time to plan and maintain your tasks will actually make you more focused and productive.

If something isn’t necessary for the deliverable, move it to the next milestone and forget about it for now. This doesn’t mean you’re procrastinating or that you’ll never get to it. Your job is to keep things light and manageable for now.

Okay, so now you have a list of tiny, bite-sized tasks, and they're all organized. Time for the next principle: “One Thing a Day.”

I mean, with everything we’ve discussed, this is pretty easy now, right? You have a bunch of bite-sized tasks. Work on at least one thing a day! You don’t have to finish it, though the fact that you’ve got these small tasks means you’re more likely to get tasks done quickly.

Let's say you're me and you have a lunch break. Well, now I can try a task or two, or check off a few of my checkboxes on one of my tasks,  or at the very least get started on something I know I can finish in a few days. Or we just got the baby down to nap and she'll be asleep for an hour and a half (probably)--I can pick up another task and work on it there.

By having small tasks, you have a constant sense of progression, which is important for your morale. And by doing at least one thing a day, you develop momentum, which is extremely pivotal in countering procrastination.

For a while I logged these on the devblog, largely for accountability, but over time I haven’t needed to do that as much.

Also, keeping the creative cycle in balance is still important. Some days I absolutely did not have time, or just felt like it would be “too much.” So I didn’t do one thing that day. Instead I’d take that time to recover.

Finally, the principle of "Do it, THEN do it right."

This has helped me on so many occasions. My procrastination often stems from a feeling of being overwhelmed. I sit there thinking about a task and how long it's going to take, and all the different things I have to make in order for it to work well.

Beat the system. Hack that sucker in there in the cheapest way you can. Hardcode values. Tack code on to an existing object instead of creating a new one. All you have to do is add notes. //TODO is helpful--it doesn’t do anything automatic in GameMaker, but you can still do a project search for it to come back to it later. Then see if it works. See how it feels to play. Only after you've got it working and feeling nice, come back and polish it up a bit. Make it less hard-coded. Put it in a script so it's easier to call from multiple places. Create those objects.

For example, I just added some "Game Over" functionality. First I just whipped up the screen (draw black rectangle, draw text) and then made it show up at the press of a button. Looking good? Nope, the text is off. Let's fix that. Okay, now let's take it off this key binding and add it to the transition manager to trigger when the player dies. Shortcut: add a key that kills the player. Still triggers? Good? Okay, now make it reset the game (well, in my case, reset the room), and test with that kill key. Does that work? Remove the kill key (that would be a nasty surprise for a player if they hit the wrong key), polish (I’m summarizing, there was a lot more of this), and voilà! The important part was taking those shortcuts to blaze the trail before I paved it over (I know that makes no sense, just go with it).

This is the same idea as the rough draft of a story. No (good) book was written the way you pull it off the shelf at your bookstore. It was much rougher when it started and only got good by drafting over and over again. The point is to get your raw materials out there, like a big ol' block of stone if you were building a statue, create the vague shape (chisel off big chunks), then work on finer and finer details.

You cannot judge your work by its first draft. You'll absolutely be disappointed. Instead, come into it with the INTENTION of doing it fast and sloppy so that you have those raw materials to work with as quickly as possible.

4. In summary

It’s going to be okay.

Burnout can be avoided by taking time to rest.

If you’re burned out, it gets better by taking time to rest.

Good motivation helps avoid burnout and procrastination.

Plan generic long-term, specific in short term chunks, and work in bite-sized tasks.

Working in bite-sized tasks helps keep up momentum and morale.

Keep action and recovery balanced every day.

It’s going to be okay. :)

[aces-to-apples]

DVD commentary meme! Whatever part of Family Before Honor you'd like to talk about, please!!

Alrighty, since there isn’t much of it posted and chapter two isn’t very long to start with, I’ll just do that then. Author’s commentary on chapter two of “Family Before Honor” beneath the cut:

Two Months

Domestic: 1) of or relating to the home, the household, household affairs, or the family. 2) no longer wild; tame.

I suppose the first thing to note is the pattern of the chapters and summaries—each chapter, and there’s only going to be three, is titled based on how long it’s been in the fic since Cut’s death and each summary is the theme on which the chapter is built. “Two Months” is more meant to bridge the gap between “Two Hours” and “Two Years” and is based around Rex making the transition from military life to civilian life. Settling into a rhythm with Suu and the kids that works for everyone.

Rebuilding the La’Cuane farm is an undertaking both larger and smaller than Rex had first estimated.

Ah, yes, “La’Cuane”. Because fuck Dave Filoni. Before I watched The Deserter, I was under the impression that Lawquane was most likely pronounced more like “lah-kayn” but, as is my custom, when I learned the “official” version I said “nah, fuck that” and came up with my own. So, “Lawquane” is a mistranslation as so many Basic Twi’lek names are. Because fuck you, Dave.

The first few days are an unending game of hurry-up-and-wait: for Republic forces to finish routing the Seps, for Jesse and the boys to come back to retrieve him when he didn’t answer their comms, for Suu to sniffle and stutter her way through the story they’d cooked up to explain his ‘death.’

I just don’t like “Seppies”, okay? I just don’t. “Covies” I’ll accept from Halo, because Marines, but “Seppies”, “tinnies”, and “shinies”? Mmm, how ���bout the fuck not?

Then waiting for various scans of the remains to come up positive for Fett’s genetic material, for ‘his’ chip to come up too damaged to ping as more than simply present, for Kenobi—well, it turns out that Kenobi had a softer heart than Rex had ever thought. From what Rex spies, he looks damn near devastated for a few heartbeats after Suu tells him the news.

Departing from @norcumii’s version, “Dead Men Tell No Tales”, I decided that it’s too early in the war for Rex and Obi-Wan to have actually started a romantic relationship and kept it as more of a “what if” kind of thing for them to regret. More pining, that way ;)

Then the children march up to him and Jesse, carrying Rex’s armor in their undersized little arms, and Jek loudly proclaims that they want to keep Rex’s bucket. “He was like a, a superhero,” Jek says earnestly, and next to him Shaeeah nods vigorously. “He was so brave and he saved us from the monsters and we’ll take really good care of it.”

Listen, the La’Cuane kids are just insanely cute, okay? And according to Legends (I think?) they were aware enough that they had several million uncles out there in the universe that Shaeeah wrote a book about it, so they absolutely grew up with stars in their eyes about their extended family.

Suu makes a little scene of chastising them, calling it disrespectful, saying that his brothers should have his helmet, it was only right. Rex is dazed by the layers of manipulation they all go to just for him to keep his face; he’s even more dazed by how well it works.

Kenobi clearly melts at the display but looks to Jesse, Kix, and Hardcase for the final decision. Rex can read the silent conversation between them as clear as day. When Jesse crouches down to gaze intently into the visor of Rex’s helmet, he knows the children have won.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Jesse says decisively, and it’s settled. Quieter, he adds, “I think he’d like that…”

If Rex wasn’t so traumatized right now, he’d be absolutely indignant that Jess just blatantly lied like that. How dare you slander the good name of Captain Rex, good Lieutenant, by implying this small child whom he only knew for a few hours and “died” to protect should keep his face when Kenobi is standing over there trying not to cry. Come say that to his helmet, coward!

Rex doesn’t think about where Cut’s bucket had ended up.

I like throwing out lines that if you think about them for longer than it takes to read them then they might become incredibly depressing. What did happen to his helmet? What happened to his armor?

Jek clutches the helmet to his chest in victory and Shaeeah smiles sweetly and Suu has this fond, exasperated look on her face that Rex assumes comes standard with being eyn buir. The children magnanimously offer the rest of his armor to the men, stacked as neatly as they could manage. Rex stares as Kenobi helps pack it away with the supplies for safekeeping, subtly pocketing his left vambrace as he does.

I’m gonna be honest, at this point canon and fanon have merged so much for me that I don’t even know what’s true and what’s not. Just go with it.

Rex doesn’t think about maybes and what-ifs.

Then Kenobi turns back to Suu and his gaze goes past her to the ruined farmhouse and Rex gets the feeling that Kenobi’s about to do one of those terribly un-Jedi-like things he had never, ever admitted to sometimes doing. He pulls out a credit chip and Rex knows.

He has to turn away from the scene and take careful breaths. Kenobi wasn’t perfect—Cody has spent hours venting to Rex and Wolffe and whoever else managed to meet up at once about his hypocritical, sanctimonious Jedi—but just like Skywalker, just like Tano, just like Windu and Yoda and Secura and every other Jedi, he had his moments of breath-stealing goodness.

Listen, I love some Jedi characters to death, but I have—had, now that Tumblr filters out posts with words like “fuck” and “wank” in the tags when you search for them and pretends they don’t exist—a #fuck the jedi order tag for a reason. The narrative tends to frame both the Jedi Order and most Jedi characters as Righteous and Good, while also having them commit pretty heinous acts and tossing the audience horrific implications/pieces of information at the same time. I’ve said it somewhere before, but The Clone Wars wants to have its “deep, edgy, grimdark exploration of war” and eat its “fun, wacky space adventures” too and while we’ve all noticed the tonal whiplash that the show gives us, it plays hell with the narrative itself. Unspeakably bad shit happens in one arc, and nobody ever mentions it again. The Jedi control a slave army, and that’s Bad, but we’re told that they care about their troops and want to help them Later, which cancels out the Bad and keeps them Good Guys. In universe, it absolutely doesn’t work. We all know the Jedi pull some fuckshit every two weeks, so you bet your ass the clones know it too and routinely get sauced and rant about it to each other where no one can hear them. But they also can be extremely helpful and empathetic between three to five every other Thursday. Sorry, just mentioning #fuck the jedi order sends me off into a rant and I actually deleted a lot of other stuff from this part because Not Important.

Rex should’ve known his last act as a captain, and his first act as a free man, would be finally witnessing one of those moments.

And then Kenobi is gone, his brothers are gone, and the work begins.

- - -

It’s slow-going, and at times back-breaking, and it quickly becomes apparent that the nerve-damage Kix had warned about has set in good and proper. After the children have gone to bed, Rex and Suu go outside to have a rousing argument about what to do—the first of many on the horizon.

I know, I know, it’s common wisdom that disagreeing with your partner are normal but knockdown drag-out arguments Are Not and while I absolutely understand that, I come from a family with an absurdly large number of siblings that subscribe to the Taika Waititi School of Siblings and therefore it’s perfectly reasonable to shout yourself hoarse about some nonsense or other and get mad and stomp off and then two hours later throw a pillow at the other person’s head and say “hey dickhead come look at this funny post what’s for dinner later”. And as such that’s how every sibling relationship I ever write will function because I genuinely don’t understand siblings who don’t drag each other at every opportunity and then pop up around a corner like an awful gremlin to scare them at 2:30 in the morning just to fuck with them.

Suu demands they use part of Kenobi’s credits to pay for surgery to remove and replace the dead arm; Rex counters that he can function with only one arm, but none of them can function without a roof over their heads and walls to shield them from the elements. Suu says that they will contact a doctor she knows on the other side of the planet tomorrow and that’s final; Rex blinks, says understood, sir, and stands down.

The next morning, between frying eggs and waking the little ones, Suu apologizes for 'pulling rank’ on him. Rex can tell the words sit strangely in her civilian mouth. He accepts her apology and says nothing about how he hadn’t even noticed his own automatic reaction to her tone the night before, but. That was exactly how he’d reacted, wasn’t it?

When next they argue, about him ‘overdoing it’ and ‘exerting himself too much’, he’s ready for the gut-punching Commanding Officer Voice and shouts back when it’s his turn to talk. It works for them.

Listen, I don’t know about you, but when I hear certain tones of voice I automatically respond in certain ways. Like the vocal version of being full-named.

- - -

“White is death,” Rex explains once the final layer of base paint has settled on the plastoid. He runs his hand firmly down the prosthesis in its finalized form, from the ball of the synthetic shoulder to the tips of each finger. It’s as much to test that the molecules of paint bind properly as it is to get himself used to the difference. “White is the bones of those long gone. White is the snow that covers the fields in winter. It… stifles, and kills, but it’s also. Possibility, I suppose. White armor is shiny and new, but that just means it has yet to prove itself. You never know what you’re gonna get when you scratch beneath the surface.”

I had a lot more of @izzyovercoffee’s Mandalorian color theory stuff that I ended up cutting just because it didn’t really fit, but you should check them out because they’re suuuuuuper interesting. I love cultural worldbuiding shit like that.

Hanging on his every word, Jek and Shaeeah nod breathlessly. They watch as he picks up a foam brush and dips it into a small pot of 501st blue. He sets it to the very top of the arm and brings it down in a smooth, careful, practiced motion.

“Blue is reliability,” he continues. The unbroken line he draws down to the wrist is thinner than it was on his armor, but copying his armor isn’t the point; the point is to create something new out of its loss. “It’s faithfulness, and consistency. It’s the sky—the very air—and you can always in trust that.”

Listen, if you want subtlety, go read deadcat’s stuff. If you want to get bashed over the head with this shit, you’ve come to the right place.

Lastly, he picks up a fine detail brush and dips it into a second pot.

“This one is different,” he says eventually, gauging his little cadets’ avid expressions. “You use red to honor a parent and the word for ‘red’ in Mando’a is ge’tal—literally, ‘almost blood.’ It’s a complicated word, because to Mando’ade, your family isn’t always going to have the same blood as you. It might not be red at all—it might be green, or blue, or something else entirely. But with family, you’re always ready to spill others’ or your own in order to protect them; it’s about honor… and love.”

“Mom,” Shaeeah deduces, her voice quiet as a mouse as they all gaze at the sharp, cutting magenta that coats the brush.

Rex nods.

“Just so.” He twirls the brush around and offers it to them. “Now, what should we do with it?”

Listen, it’s very important to me that we cut that toxic masculinity shit out of Star Wars, stop linking pink to femininity, more important stop linking femininity to weakness, and ultimately I want to see more clones wearing pink. Pink flowers and curlicues mixed in with 501st blue on Rex’s sick robot arm? Sign me the fuck up.

—

Aaaaand that’s the Author’s Commentary on Chapter Two of Family Before Dishonor, hope you enjoyed!

[downstvged]

s u r v e y  :    p e y t o n    p e l l e g r i n o.

what’s this? there’s something paper clipped to the page... a stick of juicy fruit. how thoughtful.

basic information

FULL NAME: jamie claverton  peyton pellegrino PRONUNCIATION: PAY-ton pell-eh-GREEN-oh MEANING: noble, royal REASONING: his kidnapper father said he always looked like a peyton. strong, wise, dignified. NICKNAME(S): pey, pellegrino, pillsbury ( monty ), sparkles ( tess ), etc. PREFERRED NAME(S): peyton BIRTH DATE: july 24, 2000 AGE: 18 ZODIAC: leo GENDER: cismale PRONOUNS:  he/him ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:  heteroromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual NATIONALITY:  american. ETHNICITY: italian-american. his father’s got pellegrino pride.

background

BIRTH PLACE: milton, delaware  HOMETOWN:  milton, delaware.  his dad said he was born in ohio. everyone thinks he’s from cali, when they meet him. SOCIAL CLASS:  upper-middle. FATHER: presley claverton. matthew pellegrino. fire chief. 52. west ham’s most eligible and charming single father. and peyton’s best friend. faceclaim. MOTHER: theresa claverton.  francesca milluzzo. peyton never knew her. his dad said she deserted them shortly before his first birthday. SIBLING(S): none. BIRTH ORDER: first of three. the clavertons needed to fill the void. first and only. PET(S): none. but he adores anything fluffy. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES:  n/a PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: n/a. he’s always been too scared of his own shadow to ask a girl out. ARRESTS?: squeaky clean. PRISON TIME?: not unless you count double-shifts delivering pizzas.

occupation & income

SOURCE OF INCOME: works part-time as a pizza delivery boy at one of west ham’s most beloved pizza joints. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: very content, usually! people tip well and peyton enjoys the small talk. PAST JOB(S): assistant life guarding at the local pool in middle school, but that quickly ended after he had a panic attack on duty. SPENDING HABITS: peyton’s pretty frugal! his idea of a fun time is boarding around town with monty, or grabbing a scoop of ice cream at one of the local places. he’s not too big on driving, if he doesn’t have to. longboards almost everywhere. his dad’s job gets them ample cash, being fire chief, but they live modestly. pellegrino men are humble. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: his longboard. unfortunately, his anti-anxiety meds.

skills & abilities

TALENTS: deduction, longboarding, mock trial, stage lighting, studying, making people smile. he’s mario kart champion and he’ll never live that down. SHORTCOMINGS: overthinker. often, he limits himself just by thinking in circles. he... finds the good in people. assumes the best. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, and enough italian to get friendly with the kitchen staff. DRIVE?:  yes. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes. RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes, but longboards are way better. SWIM?: yes. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: he has a guitar and plays it decently well. sometimes he’ll hum a little tune and strum a few chords, but it’s nothing too major. PLAY CHESS?: yeah. BRAID HAIR?: ha! him? able to braid hair? he wishes. TIE A TIE?: he can double-knot his shoes. PICK A LOCK?: no.

physical appearance & characteristics

FACE CLAIM: noah centineo. EYE COLOR: deep hazel, primarily chocolate with pools of mossy green. HAIR COLOR: dark brown. HAIR TYPE/STYLE: wavy/curly. it does what it wants, and he rarely styles it, unless it’s for a mock trial competition or a student gov event. reference. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: he has a glasses prescription but always wears his contacts. DOMINANT HAND: right. HEIGHT: 6′1. WEIGHT: 165 lbs. BUILD: lean, trim, athletic. EXERCISE HABITS: he’s co-captain of the lacrosse team with monty, so they have daily team workouts. he goes for runs a lot, and likes HIIT training. does longboarding count? it should. he’s boarded all over this town countless times ( it’s also how he chooses to deliver pizzas, when the weather’s alright. ) SKIN TONE: tanned, smooth. reference. TATTOOS: none. he can’t handle needles. PEIRCINGS: none. MARKS/SCARS: a few on his arms and legs from nasty longboarding falls. NOTABLE FEATURES: his wild hair. million-watt smile. USUAL EXPRESSION: peaceful, welcoming. CLOTHING STYLE: reference.  leather bracelets, cuffed jeans, lots of solid colored and colorblocked tees. when he dresses up for mock trial, the girls kinda swoon. boy looks dashing in a suit. has a glasses prescription but always wears contacts. his dad says he looks sharper that way ( but it’s actually because, with glasses, he looks too similar to the claverton family. )  beat up chuck taylors, kind of untied on purpose. he’s got that whole loosely kept together, sleep deprived look down pat. JEWELRY: leather bracelets. sometimes he’ll wear a thin chain. ALLERGIES: n/a. BODY TEMPERATURE: the standard. he runs a little warmer than most. DIET: lots of pizza. mountain dew. juicy fruit gum’s basically a whole other food group. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: n/a. he can be a bit jumpy, sometimes, if he’s feeling on edge. his left pinky kind of clicks funny when he makes a fist, from when he broke his hand his freshman year.

psychology

MORAL ALIGNMENT: lawful good. TEMPERAMENT: phlegmatic. ELEMENT: earth. MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: anxiety disorder. SOCIABILITY: very approachable. warm. kindhearted. there’s a reason he’s the one tasked with getting class dues, as class treasurer. there’s a reason why he leads the lacrosse team. EMOTIONAL STABILITY:  typically very levelheaded. his anxiety can make that fluctuate, though. PHOBIA(S): having another panic attack in public. he hasn’t had one in front of anyone besides monty in a year. ADDICTION(S): does juicy fruit qualify? DRUG USE: none. very straight-edge.  ALCOHOL USE:  occasional, as much as you’d expect. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: not at all.

mannerisms

QUIRKS: peyton shoves his hands into his pockets when he’s nervous. he always looks for monty or tess in a crowded room, to get grounded. whenever he wears a flannel or a sweatshirt, he always pushes the sleeves up midway to his elbows. HOBBIES: lacrosse, longboarding, mock trial, reading, parkour ( a phase in freshman year ). watching football games with his dad. trying out weird recipes. HABITS: biting the edge of pens. turning his head to the side when he’s listening. offering people pieces of his lunch until he realizes there’s nothing left for him. NERVOUS TICKS: not knowing what to do with his hands. trailing off. looking at the ground. laughing. counting his own fingers. biting the tip of his tongue. DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: he genuinely wants to see people happy. he wants everything to run smoothly and willingly along.  FEARS: his meds will stop working. he’ll have a panic attack in front of his classmates, who are supposed to see him as calm, collected, put together. he’ll never get to know more about his mom. it bugs him. POSITIVE TRAITS: benevolent, bona fide, conscientious, suave, tenderhearted. NEGATIVE TRAITS: anxious, critical, restless, self-limiting, yielding. SENSE OF HUMOR: puns. wit. a lot of inside jokes with tess and monty. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: not really! he’s more likely to say frick or flipping than anything bad. CATCHPHRASE(S): “ oh shit ! ” & “ dude ! ” & “ what’s good ? ”

favorites

ACTIVITY: longboarding, hands down. ANIMAL: he’s got a super soft spot for rabbits. BEVERAGE: mountain dew or 7-up. BOOK: growing up, he loved the percy jackson series. CELEBRITY: stephen hawking. COLOR: green. DESIGNER: designer? he guesses, like... is gucci the right answer? he’s not really plugged in to that. FOOD: does juicy fruit count? FLOWER: he’s learning more about flowers, but he thinks sunflowers are pretty nice. kelly’s teaching him more about those. GEM: tiger’s eye. HOLIDAY: christmas. that’s when the famous pellegrino slutty brownies surface. MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: longboarding !! MOVIE: original star trek. MUSICAL ARTIST: saint motel. QUOTE/SAYING: “ we’re dead !  we survived but we’re dead ! ” – dash, the incredibles. SCENERY: rolling hills. sunset. SCENT: cinnamon. SPORT: lacrosse. SPORTS TEAM: in connecticut, he’s surprised he hasn’t been vilified for being a chicago bears fan. but he and his dad spent some time there, and going to those games became a weekly tradition. they watch them now, and it’s like a little piece of their story. TELEVISION SHOW: saturday night live, honestly. WEATHER: that golden-hour sunshine, just before sunset. lukewarm. mid-60′s. VACATION DESTINATION: hawaii. he’s always wanted to longboard down those colossal volcano-side roads.

attitudes

GREATEST DREAM: go into tech/lighting design for broadway. ask cassandra pressman out, for real. GREATEST FEAR: his dad won’t be able to function without him in west ham next fall. he’ll panic in front of people when he needs to seem strong. MOST AT EASE WHEN: he’s with his squad, the belugas. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: he’s allowed the time to overthink. when his dad doesn’t come home from his fire shift on time. when things don’t feel right. BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: the west ham mock trial team won the state championship this spring. BIGGEST REGRET: he never pressured his dad more about finding his mother. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: he had a panic attack in the middle of his treasurer speech freshman year. someone pulled the fire alarm right as he couldn’t breathe. to this day, peyton has no idea who that was, but he’s so friggin’ thankful. BIGGEST SECRET: his biggest secret’s not even known to him yet. matthew pellegrino isn’t his father; he’s his kidnapper. peyton pellegrino’s fake. doesn’t exist. TOP PRIORITIES: having monty and tess’s backs. taking care of his dad, since he’s still reeling from peyton’s mom leaving almost 17 years ago. bringing the lacrosse team to the state championships. making sure every single thing he does for west ham high’s theatre department is flawless: making art on that stage. finding out how to... conquer this anxiety. finding out how to muster up enough courage to make a move before it’s too late.

[dxmedstudent]

Weird Asks that Say a Lot  Meme...

My friend the wonderful @meanwhileonwednesday suggested I fill out Every even number for the 'weird asks that say a lot', so here I am. Thanks, friend! XD

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolates.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

At my first school? Artistically talented and perceptive (one teacher was very vividly impressed by my grasp of duck anatomy at like 5 years old). Then there’s the teacher at my new school who thought I had special needs because I was withdrawn (I was being bullied by most of the class, really); she was a new teacher and not really equipped to deal with that. By the end of primary school, I went back to being commended on my work ethic and smarts and artistic ability.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Hmmm I think my work clothes are mostly a formal/preppy mix. With a little bit of boho thrown in, particularly when I’m at home.

8. movies or tv shows?

I prefer movies, because they represent a lot less commitment (America, please stop giving everything like 17 seasons, I beg of you!), however TV show episodes are shorter and easier to slot into your life than a full movie.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

I was generally awful in PE. I liked benchball, can’t say that I was good in it, being yet another game where being short doesn’t do you any favours.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

Either my Kickass playlist, or my Reflective playlist.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Starburst.

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Curled up, on my side, in a nice big armchair with my legs hanging off the side. Surrounded by pillows, and probably a cat or two.

18. ideal weather?

Picture this: it’s a sunny day; warm but not too hot. Maybe around 24 degrees celsius. There’s a warm breeze; it’s not stifling, and it’s not cold enough to make you shiver. The trees rustle with the sound of the wind; change is in the air. You can go out in short sleeves, perhaps with the thinnest of cardigans if like me your metabolism basically died 300 years ago.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Depends on what I’m writing. I am the kind of ineffectual person who starts to write tings in a notebook, but also a couple of word docs. I have post- it notes for important things. I document ideas for my comic in a note/sketch book. I love doodling in my sketchbooks.

22. role model?

I never really had one, growing up. I guess the closest I’d get is David Attenborough.

24. favorite crystal?

My birthstone is ruby (which is red; my favourite colour!) however I also love opals; I love their irdescent (OK, opalescent, technically) sparkliness and the way they shimmer with lots of colours. I don’t see why everyone prefers massive diamonds when opals are like... so much cooler. I I don’t actually own any, but maybe one day I’ll be able to buy myself a nice one.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Go for a nice long walk, take lots of pictures, have a picnic in the park. No, I lie, my favourite activity is roping someone I care about into doing it all with me, and having even more fun. 

28. five songs to describe you?

Home - Ellie Goulding Fight Song - Rachel Platten Working Woman’s Blues - Valerie June Alive - Bird Set Free My Medea - Vienna Teng

30. places that you find sacred?

Already been answered.

32. top five favorite vines?

Alas, hard to name off the top of my head. I mainly know vines from various compilations.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

Right now? Thankfully none of them.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

That’s impossible to say! Memes were a thing before internet memes became a thing. I’d say that ‘S’ shape we all drew in primary school? Nursery rhymes? Who knows.

38. lemonade or tea?

They don’t usually compete for my love, but i have tea more often than lemonade, purely due to availability reasons.

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

Some students climbed onto the roof.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Honestly? Skirt pockets. But being a woman, jacket pockets are usually woefully ineffectual and small. Trouser pockets are a bit better, but again usually small. Whereas if someone puts pockets on a skirt, they make sure they are actually proper pockets!

44. favorite scent for soap?

Maybe honey, or roses, or jasmine.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

A baggy pair of PJs; I’m a dress for comfort kind of girl. Particularly since the places I’ve lived haven’t always been great in the heating department. I’ve been known to sleep in a hoodie when it gets cold.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

I would like to be a berry, or maybe an apple. Something pinkish red. Sweet, and a little sharp.

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

Probably my little brother astounding me with how grown-up he is about things. He’s pretty awesome. Or my mum just saying something wildly, hilariously inappropriate XD

52. favorite font?

I love the Komika font family for my comic. I used to use Bookman Old Style, Book Antiqa, Georgia or classic Arial for essays and things like that, when they didn’t specify Times New Roman.

54. what did you learn from your first job?

Always call the med reg if you are stuck, be nice to the nurses and always help each other. OK, I did lots of volunteering in hospital before FY1. In which case my

56. favorite tradition?

My family/culture have a specific tradition on the morning of an exam/interview/life event where you fill a cup with water and a couple of plant leaves (Slavs love putting greenery into everything). You place it at the threshold,  and give it a good kick it with your dominant foot. It symbolises your knowledge flowing, and I guess it’s a good luck charm.. You also aren’t meant to look back (literally); because you should be focusing on the task at hand. As a kid it was a comforting good luck ritual, and I don’t think I ever really grew out of it.

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

I’m proud of my artistic skills, modest though they are. I enjoy creating, and I enjoy that I can make things to cheer up my friends, or things that people here can relate to.

By extension, I’m good with my hands, and that usually translates to picking up procedures and things like that pretty quickly at work. And yes, I love being able to get that cannula in (especially if it’s on the first go!)  when nobody else can. It’s a tiny, tiny thing, but it sparks a little joy. I can develop good rapports with people; which means I can help them to confide their problems, and can help them to feel better or to address things that are bothering them. It’s really mostly about listening and not being judgemental. I am proud that I can sometimes make people feel better, and feel listened to. I’m proud that I learned to try to work through my feelings. As a young person who was really quite stressed, I somehow learned how to apply what’s basically CBT to keep myself relatively sane, and I think it’s helped me a lot. It was only much later that I realised it was basically CBT when I was comparing notes with friends actually going through those kinds of therapies. I’m not perfect at it, and my mind tests me on a regular basis, but it helps.

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

I don’t know what I’d like to be in? Maybe a Ghibli film. I think I’d like that.  When I was at school, a close friend of mine just turned around and said “OMG, you’re just like an anime character”, to fervent agreement from my peers. I guess they meant one of those chirpy, ditzy shojo anime characters. I can still see myself as some shojo series heroine; frantically trying to keep it together under the pressures of magical girldom, being romantically inept, trying to fight off the baddie of the week whilst learning lessons about getting along with each other, being helpful and not being mean.

62. seven characters you relate to?

Right now? Sophie from Howl’s moving castle, Princess Carolyn from Bojack Horseman, Miranda Otto from D. Gray-Man, Elinor Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility, The Red Blood Cell from Cells at Work, Kiki from Kiki’s delivery service, and Aggressive Retsuko.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

I used to love looking at other people’s art on Elfwood or Deviantart.

66. favorite flower(s)?

Today I’m feeling the answer is lilacs.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Ugh anything bitter.

70. left or right handed?

I’m ridiculously right handed, but I’ve learned to use my left hand more effectively because of procedures etc. I’m really good with my hands, but my right hand takes over like 80% of the work.

72. worst subject?

PE in school, biochemistry at university.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

At home, maybe a 3, because I don’t see the point in suffering needlessly. However at work I’ll do whatever it takes to keep functional including taking pain relief before it gets bad because I don’t want to have to deal with pain and an on-call. I’m not sure if the scale is logarithmic? I’d rate the worst pain that I’ve had 5 ot a 6, and that made me vomit and curl up into a ball and basically unable to do anything. But I can imagine pain that’s much, much worse than that was, so perhaps I just can’t thin

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

This kind of new potato salad my mum makes with onions. Raw onions are totally a trigger food for my IBS, and any time my mum feeds me anything full of onions, she’ll tell me I can take them out if they upset my tummy. And every single time I’ll pile even more onions into my plate because there’s no way I’m letting my gut dictate my life. Turns out, I’m even more stubborn than my IBS; I just don’t want to give up some of the foods that set things off. My GP once recommended a FODMAP diet, and having had a look at all the stuff I’d have to cut, I resolved I’d only start cutting things if my symptoms got really bad.

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Honestly, I have no pretentions to snobbery. The best coffee is the one you get when you are about to collapse on a night shift, even if much, much better coffee exists in the world. And the best sushi is the plain supermarket one you get between on-calls to treat yourself, even if the one from a good restaurat is so much nicer.

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

I wear a lot of jewel tones, but I also wear a lot of earth tones, and I don’t really see them as being in competition. Rock all the colours!

82. pc or console?

Phone. XD I don’t play much on either, mainly due to time. Phone has the benefit of being in my pocket when I’m at a loose end on the bus, or at my parents’. I don’t sit down and make time to play, I play games in the stolen minutes here and there when I don’t have much to do.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Classical music radio in the office (because it’s the most neutral), retro stations in the car (or whatever your guests would like), and podcasts at home when you are by yourself.

84. barbie or polly pocket?

I didn’t have a real Barbie (fairly sure ours were knockoff dolls) but I do have fond memories of making outfits for our toys. Though our favourites were always various little animal models who got into all sorts of adventures.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies, but it’s a close call. Really, I’d have to say biscuits, since I eat those more often than either of the above.

88. your greatest wish?

For myself? To be happy. For others? Ditto. 

90. luckiest mistake?

Getting into my first degree. Feels like I fell into it, but it set me off on a great path, and I don’t regret that my initial path was far from straightforward.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

All of the above.

94. favorite season?

That kind of Spring-Summer interface when all the plants are in bloom, and the weather is warm but not too hot, and the days are long.

96. desktop background?

Arietty’s bedroom from the Ghibli Borrowers film adaptation. I’m a sucker for ghibli aesthetic; usually because my rooms end up similarly haphazardly adorned with cool things. 

98. favorite historical era?

Every era has its own awesomeness. I feel very fondly for the regency period because of all the books I’ve read set in it, likewise the Victorian period. Though both aren’t without their problems. I realised that I style my hair like a Victorian; centrally parted with a neat, low bun at the nape of the neck. XD

I think that might be all the questions! Phew!

[consilium-games]

Genresick, or: Six Ways to Heartache

As I discussed allll the way back in this post in March, I've been working busily on the supplement to Lovesick. And at very long last, it's finally, finally done:

Genresick

Go on, click on it, I worked hard on it! I'll wait!

. . .

You're back? You took a look at least? Excellent. Cause I'd like to say a few things about it here.

First, "what could have been": my initial idea was a lot more weird and high-concept. I'll probably realize it in some form later, but it entailed a bigger focus on collaboration in storytelling, and in particular, loosening up the focus on "a few main characters (PCs) in the hands of cooperating players".

Instead, it was going to or will in the future use a whole ensemble of characters that players would make, terse thumbnail sketches at first, and maneuver together and against one another, striving for one of three 'endings' to the shared story. Still centered very much on passion, internal motivations, psychological damages, and unhealthy fixation, and still both very self-aware and very determined to tell its kind of story. But that concept needs to stew more.

I've been thinking a lot lately on some of the more abstract ideas involved in storytelling: how stories about ourselves often define us, how we build ourselves out of these stories, and how dissonance between stories can feel like you've actually entered some other kind of reality, where even the laws of nature don't match what you've grown to trust as much as gravity.

Heady, nerdy stuff, in short, and I think the untitled game I didn't make--because it basically would and should be its own full game--is both a necessary step to getting where I want to work on, and still a bit beyond my reach.

Second, "what is": Genresick is a few things at once. It's a supplement obviously, a pile of toys and backdrops for Lovesick surely, but it's also a kind of reassessment. I think characters by themselves can make for a really compelling story--as long as they want things, for reasons, and do things to get them, you have a story. So people wanting relatable things to an unreasonable degree and doing dramatic things to get them seems like a perfect pitch to me!

Not so much the people who find their way to click on my downloads.

Now, I'm not defeated or even disheartened by this, so much as attentive: "hmm, that didn't work . . ." So, let's see what people make of something packaged more in the traditional trappings and tropes of Geek Culture[tm]: science fiction, unpronounceable names, airbrushed paperback covers, the kind of genre fiction set-dressing that "stories for nerds" often comes with.

Thirdly--let me dig into that a bit.

Still inflamatory after all these books

I could go dig up citations and quotations from better commentators than I, citing the operation of a kind of "low-brow chic" in the many intersecting and overlapping orbits that enclose "people who read, buy, play, and make roleplaying games". I won't though, I trust that it's not a foreign concept, but I'd like to stake out how I see it a bit, and what I think it means.

To put it really briefly and only a little reductively, science fiction and fantasy as we know them today were very strongly influenced by being relegated to the gutters of culture. Most recently as Young Adult[tm] books and over-contracted mandatory-trilogy series and hypercapitalist conventions, but prior to that, low-budget TV series, three-color comic books, and before that, B-movies and 'cult classics'. You can even see a lot of that in the earliest incarnations of Dungeons and Dragons--there's an actual robot wizard in there. An actual robot that is an actual wizard.

This influence isn't any weaker today, it's just weirder: genre mashups and "what even is genre, really" sensibilities, and the slow dissolution of previously-stable subcultural boundaries mean that the idea of a "space western" isn't a radical new thing--it's Firefly. But, what hasn't left? The genre fiction domain, and the tendency to live entirely inside it.

When a piece of Geek Culture[tm] tries to articulate itself, to position itself and give itself context, to say what it's about and what it's doing, the points of reference are always firmly inside the spheres of genre fiction, the low-budget, the literarily maligned, the 'nerdy' rather than 'intellectual'. This has to include my own work, too--RPGs as an artistic medium live more or less entirely inside the geekosphere, and I credit FROM Software in my first book--a video-game company, who made the sword-and-sorcery game that inspired Succession. Good work can come out of the genre fiction ecosystem, but . . .

But. The fact that anyone needs to point that out, even as a defensive disclaimer, is not a very healthy sign. A story set in the future exploring the possible effects of technology on society can be a true work of art--just look at Mary Shelley. But when the wealthy and lettered at some point decided that the only good stories, worth studying, involve wealthy and lettered literature professors contemplating an affair--well. Two things happened:

Firstly the academics set the standard for Good Art[tm], which you've probably seen some reaction against, say, Duchamp's 'Fountain'. But standard it remained and to a large degree remains: severe attitudes, reserved speech, refined vocabulary, abstract and sometimes even indiscernible stakes and ideas and goals, when it comes to stories and how they're conveyed. The groove carved into (white Western anglophonic) culture's psyche at large is "this is what Good Art is, and if you wish to be a Good Artist, you must aspire to this; if you cannot appreciate this Good Art, you are no artist or intellectual at all!"

Secondly they deprived the rest of us of a vocabulary, half by claiming it themselves and using it only for their kind of "Good Art", half by everyone else identifying even trying to form such a vocabulary as one of those effete ivory-tower intellectuals here only to sneer on Bad Art or even Non-Art. So weirdos like me have to travel far and dig deep to piece together analytical tools to understand how "Bad Art" stories work, what they do, how they function, what makes them work and what makes them fail.

But, as a consequence of that second thing, in Geek Culture people kept making art! But they didn't have a vocabulary for the many new concepts they kept forming and inventing independently and from scratch, and then borrowing and elaborating from one another. I think this is both why application of basic storytelling techniques like foreshadowing and mixed motivations can be so captivating for a nerd-as-a-first-language audience even when bungled: they're the same techniques refined over centuries over there in "Good Art", good techniques that work--but that don't work without adjustment. Adjustment that outsiders lack the vocabulary to discuss, and thus can't really derive for their own needs.

All this boils down to Geek Culture more often than not tending to shy away from something that looks "intellectual" unless it first looks "sci-fi" or "fantasy" or some other identifiable public forswearing of the scary ivory tower. You can see a lot of this in video-games' audience: "it's just video-games, don't put politics in my video-games, can't it just be a video-game?!" Of course it can. There will always be games for the sake of games (Chess), and songs for the sake of songs (most any pop song), and now video-games and movies just for the sake of something flashy to look at and something to do for awhile after earning a daily wage. That's not what bothers a person making that kind of complaint.

What bothers them is a lot more complicated than I have the energy left to get into, but hey, I think if I can develop and popularize and expand that vocabulary we've been denied (and denied ourselves), we can use it to make some really wicked cool things. I'm not about to tell anyone to toss out their Dragonlance and instead read Dante's Inferno--honestly, I'd have to rate them on a par if you look at the work and not at the reception. Both are fantastical fan-fiction, though Dante's is a lot meaner in spirit and departs more from the source material, though it certainly has more technical execution on its side.

Instead what I want is for us to have, as a "Geek Culture", a way to understand something like Dragonlance as thoroughly as Dante's Inferno. And we're getting there! Meanwhile, if the only way to sell people on "intense character-study and focus on relationships" is to put on a space-suit, then suit me up.

So what's up next?

Aside from stirring the new pot bubbling over on r/consilium_games, and hopefully starting some form of discourse, next is a full RPG in its own right, in keeping with my self-appointed schedule of "full game and supplement"! And since I've implicitly asked my readers and/or the RPG community at large to stretch so much in looking at Lovesick, it's only fair that I stretch myself too.

Specifically, I'm working now on a very mechanics-heavy, combat-oriented game, applying the same mechanical components I've used since Succession and especially some of the ideas in Substitute Reagents, but building them around concrete, reified, 'gamey' interactions rather than purely narrative beats and character-focused stakes.

I also intend it to dig into identity formation, structures and systems of power, how people 'cast' themselves and one another, and a few other themes very close to my heart. Come for the crunchy cinematic action, stay for the pensive meditation on selfhood!

[countessgradula]

So I’m late on a proper New Year’s post, but one of my things (I’m not doing resolutions this year, I’m doing “things I’d like to try”) is not guilting myself as much when the schedule for something non-urgent shifts around. I had family over, then I headed back to my apartment, and I’ve spent the last two days cleaning and organizing and then reading for class. Today is the first day of my Spring semester, so we’ll say this is a reflection post for that.

Anyway! I haven’t re-upped my intro post since I first started this blog. Under the cut, for scrolling flow purposes:

I think I’m going to stick with going by Countess for now, just because. Depending how this next semester goes, maybe I’ll use my initials later or something. My department is pretty small, and while I have a couple friends following me (hi!) it’s bc I felt comfortable with them doing so and directly gave them my url. So, doing this for a bit longer.

I’m a first year PhD student in English at a university in the Southern U.S.

I’m primarily a Gothicist, and have recently gotten more into writing about Southern Gothic, given where I’m from/where I’m going to school

On top of that, I research the current iteration of the Romance genre (which I’ve alternated between calling Contemporary Romance or Popular Romance, trying to avoid confusion with contemporary-set romance novels but also with the older connotations of capital-R Romance), but I haven’t gotten to explore that as much recently

I didn’t want to go into my full research questions here, both for the sake of space and preservation, but if anyone is ever curious, I’m always down to talk about them!

I’m the first person in my immediate family to go to grad school, and the first person in my entire family going for something Humanities-related, so that occasionally leads to some Interesting conversations with well-meaning relatives

I’m TAing again this semester and will be an instructor of record next semester, about which I oscillate from “yay!” to “yikes!” and back again on an alarmingly quick basis

In my solo downtime I watch a lot of movies, especially horror (one of my BAs is in film), play video games pretty casually, and write fiction for myself (my other BA was in creative writing).

Speaking of that, I actually applied for MFA programs my first application cycle, but had a change of heart and went the PhD route on my second. If anyone ever has any questions about that process, I’d be happy to chat.

I’m also working on cooking/baking more; mostly pastas and sweets for now, respectively, but I’m trying to expand my repertoire

On the off-chance this is helpful to anybody: I have some sort of anxiety - I haven’t been formally diagnosed, but I’ve lived with the physical symptoms long enough to know it’s definitely something of the sort. I also have shown similar tendencies in the past to OCD and ADHD, and while I can’t say for sure I have either, I’ve found tips to help cope with those have also helped me function in the day-to-day, so I try to pay particular attention to discussions about those in academia (which might, in turn, be reblogged here for my own reference).

Having discussed my Right Now, so to speak, I’d love to discuss my New Year.

A few things I’m proud of from 2018:

Briefly had a job in accounting and didn’t do terribly, which made me braver about some things I previously thought I would only ever be bad at (math, I’m talking about math.)

Actually got into grad school, finally

Relocated to a new city in a state where I’d never lived and had no family nearby, successfully

Passed my first semester (grades aren’t everything, but it’s a big deal to me)

Got accepted to my first conference (one being held on campus, but still)

Outside of academics, generally just survived what was personally a really rough year due to a perfect storm of bad circumstances

Some things I’d like to try in 2019:

Submitting an abstract to this really big conference I’m looking forward to and hopefully getting accepted

Making a point to correct my posture whenever I can - I’m a bisexual who can’t sit properly in chairs, but at least when I need to be presentable I’ll make the effort

Not talking down myself or my achievements - I have this habit of minimizing my contributions or my projects when I talk (“oh, no big deal” “I might be wrong, but”) and I need to put a stop to that, even if I’m trying to poke fun at myself. I did the work and I earned whatever I got, so while I don’t want to brag per se, I can at least stop selling myself short.

Make a point to put my phone down whenever I catch myself mindlessly scrolling or refreshing - honestly, you’d think I would have done this earlier with how annoyed I get with some of the things I read online (the fiction discourse here is less inviting than a lukewarm salad bar with no sneeze guard). I’m hoping to replace it with actually reading a few pages of a book for fun, since I don’t want to encroach on breaks with more work. Maybe I’ll actually get a whole novel read during my semester, who knows.

Finally, find more places in my new city to have fun and take more pictures - I’m normally pretty selfie-adverse, but I’d rather have bad photos than none at all.

And I think that’s a new place to leave it for now; if you read all this way, you’re a peach and I appreciate you.

Here’s hoping this is the year we finally go after everything we want, unapologetically.

[maxmayfield]

There and Back Again

I. “And so, for a triangle with sides A, B, and C, the cosine rule can—”

Steve blinks, eyelids suddenly heavy as his attention begins to waver. He’s always liked Ms. Davis; she’s a good teacher and she comes to all the basketball games, but there’s just something about today—something about the last several weeks actually. He’s been finding it hard to focus.

First it was the echoes of shrieks and ghosts of monsters that played constantly at the corners of his imagination. Then it was Nancy’s face swimming through his thoughts, the quick glimpses he caught of her in the hallways feeding his memories, making it difficult to do anything else besides miss her.

Slowly, Steve’s attention drifts past his desk, past the slightly dirty window, to outside, where winter is quickly turning to spring.

Things have changed a lot in the last months. Steve likes to think he’s kept up well with those changes; grown into someone bigger and better than who he used to be. But, never far behind those thoughts are the nagging ones that suggest maybe he’s grown a little too much, a little too big. For Hawkins, at least.

II. Steve grits his teeth, annoyed at his stupidly big mouth and his even stupider big heart for getting him into this situation. Jonathan Byers is there, in his car, in the passenger seat, tenser than a ready-to-spring mousetrap as he stares pointedly out the window.

Steve wants to slam on the breaks, reach across the gap between them, and punch him in his stupid face. But he resists, swallowing the urge to fight that still springs up so easily in his chest.

Instead, he grips the steering wheel a little too tightly and makes pained small talk, like years of his parents’ social gatherings has taught him. “Work was good?”

Jonathan shrugs slightly, apparently surprised at the friendly question—as if Steve pulling up behind him on the sidewalk and offering him a ride home in the pouring rain wasn’t already friendly enough. His answer, “I guess,” is tentative.

“No car today?” Steve continues, shoulders still tense as he tries to focus on driving through the rain, on the limited visibility in front of him—on anything really, other than the thought of Jonathan and Nancy together.

“It’s in the shop.”

“Cool.”

Silence falls again and Steve tries, really tries, to understand where he fits into this mess. Because Nancy’s been friendly; she’s trying hard, but Jonathan can barely look at him and Steve’s not sure if it’s because he’s embarrassed or because he feels bad. Steve’s not sure if he fits at all.

He breathes out steadily, pulling himself away from those thoughts and returning to this hellishly awkward car ride.

“Music?” Steve asks, the word coming out more like a command than a question and he’s almost glad when Jonathan nods enthusiastically and hits play on the cassette ring.

The choral notes of Starman filter through the speakers, crackling at first because Steve’s played the tape so many times it’ll have to be replaced soon. He feels a hint of smug satisfaction at the shocked look that crosses Jonathan’s face.

“You like Bowie?”

“I’m not deaf, Byers. Of course I like Bowie.”

That’s it. Silence for the remainder of the ride, save for the melancholy electricity of Bowie.

Steve pulls up in the Byers’s drive, expecting, for a moment, some monster to be lurking in the shadows. But Jonathan gets out of the car and quiet goodbyes are exchanged.

Steve turns his windshield wipers up a notch and drives home, suddenly very tired.

III. He decides to leave Hawkins on a Monday.

His going away party is the following Saturday. Although, it’s not much of a party. Claudia Henderson makes his favourite dinner, which he eats enthusiastically despite having just come from lunch with his parents.

The kids are all there, except Max. Steve doesn’t ask why. He already knows. They all ask him questions: where will he go, what will he do, and will he make friends. This last question comes from El and Steve grins at her, messing up her hair.

Goodbyes are quick, but not painless. Steve hugs each of the kids in turn, wondering how tall they’ll be when he next sees them; wondering if they’ll be safe; not just from horrible monsters, but from all the stuff that goes along with high school.

Just as he’s ducking into his car, Dustin slips away from the fray and slides a walkie-talkie into his hand. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles gently. Both know that the walkie won’t be in a functional range for long, but they leave that fact unspoken.

Steve swings by the arcade on his way out of town and, as expected, sees Max busy at her usual game. She’s scowling and her fingers press down on the buttons with more force than necessary. He sneaks up behind her, as stealthily as he can.

“Bet I can beat your score.”

Max doesn’t break eye contact with the game. Steve can tell it’s not because she’s mad at him; she just doesn’t want him to see the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I thought you were leaving.”

“I wanted to say goodb—”

And then she’s hugging him, her arms tight around his torso, her face pressed into his shirt. Steve sighs and hugs her back, mentally berating himself. He knows Max hates goodbyes.

“I’ll see you later, Zoomer, I promise.”

IV. Three days on the road and Steve feels like he’s going in circles. He hasn’t decided where to go and more than once he’s driven right back to the town limits of Hawkins before turning around and setting out again.

Leaving is hard.

At night he sleeps in his car, curled up in the backseat with his old letter jacket strewn across his chest. It’s not ideal, but when he wakes up, stiff and a little worse for the wear, he finally doesn’t feel like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

V. Steve closes his eyes in delight, savouring the way the flavours melt together in his mouth. Ham and two types of bacon? Heaven. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t really eaten much in the last few days or maybe this really is the best sandwich he’s ever tasted. Either way, he’s downed it in practically three bites and quickly gets to work on the side of fries, doused in ketchup.

His waitress comes over to his table, her dark hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. She fixes him with a smart grin, fire in her eyes as she takes in his near-empty plate. “I’d ask if you’re enjoying everything, but it looks pretty obvious that you are.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow in her direction, trying to think of something smart to say, but he’s rusty in that department too. And before his brain can supply a single word, she’s holding out her hand.

“I’m Robin.”

“Steve.”

He likes meeting new people now; people who don’t know his name or where he’s from or who he used to be. He likes thinking that he can be absolutely anyone he wants to be.

VI. Three months out of Hawkins and things have changed. New job. New apartment. New girlfriend. Life for Steve Harrington is pretty damn good.

On Saturdays, Steve hits up the local comic book shop. It’s bigger than the one in Hawkins; the one Dustin dragged him to on countless weekends that he’s begun to miss.

What started as a short trip to pick something up for the kids has become a weekly ritual. Now, aside from browsing for rare finds he can mail back to Hawkins for his little shits (who Robin has affectionately, after several phone calls, come to term his “fan club”), Steve is looking for the newest issue of Detective Comics for himself.

Saturdays also mean phone calls with Max. Mostly, she fills him in on the local gossip (on Mrs. Gillespie’s newest hairstyle or the ridiculous drama about petunias between Mrs. Harris and Mr. Delco). She reassures him that she’s fine, that things with Lucas are great and that she’s been spending a lot of time at the Hoppers’ place (and, more gossip, Hop and Joyce are totally flirting all the time). She asks when he’s coming home and he tells her soon.

Sometimes he feels guilty, because Steve thinks that maybe he’s found a new home.

VII. It’s a pepperoni pizza, pyjamas, and B-movie kind of night when the phone call comes. Steve and Robin are snuggled up on his couch—the one they found at the side of the road and spent three days refinishing together—and the shrill ringing of the telephone interrupts their running commentary on the low-quality flick.

Stretching out, nearly dropping his pizza, Steve grabs the receiver, his hello cut off by a flurry of words he can just barely follow, but he holds on to every single syllable.

“Steve?”

Robin is watching him from her spot on the sofa, her dark eyes intent on his face, worry creasing the corners of her lips. Steve meets her eye briefly and tries to smile, but his face can’t quite manage it with the worried voice in his ear.

“I’ll be there soon, Nance.”

The call ended, Steve stands, tossing aside his half-eaten slice and grabbing his jacket from where it hangs over the back of the sofa. Robin is on her feet as well, her face begging for clarification.

“I have to go,” Steve says, unsure how to explain the urgency to her.

Whatever questions he had been expecting from her never arrive. Instead, Robin licks her lips and nods curtly. “Okay. I’m coming with you.”

“It’s—” Steve stops himself. There’s no time. “I’ll explain on the way.”

VIII. “So wait, they were dogs?” Robin eyes him as they speed along the interstate back towards Hawkins, Steve hoping against hope that he won’t get pulled over. “Or demigagons?”

“Demogorgons,” Steve corrects her pronunciation, “And they were neither. Dustin called them Demodogs, but whatever they were, they had a lot of teeth.”

He’s waiting for her to laugh. To roll her eyes, tell him to stop the car and to quit screwing around. But she settles further into her seat, the gun they’d picked up from her place resting in the bag at her feet.

“I believe in aliens,” Robin says, as though she can read his mind, “What’s an interdimensional monster or two?”

“Two hundred,” Steve says quietly, the smile fading from his lips. He presses his foot down on the gas just a little bit harder, suddenly remembering the looks on the kids’ faces last year when they went down into those tunnels.

He should be there.

IX. Nancy is the first to notice the headlights pull up outside Hop’s cabin. Everyone else is distracted with planning and the bickering that goes along with it. She moves silently to the door and unlatches it, standing in the frame with her arms around herself as Steve gets out of the car, tall and imposing as ever. Just behind him is a girl Nancy doesn’t recognize, but she’s holding a gun and that’s good enough for her.

“Steve—” Nancy begins to greet him, but she’s overwhelmed, her voice catching in her throat. Mike and El have been missing for hours now and each passing moment weighs her down even more. Steve’s arms are around her, squeezing her in a way that feels safe and familiar. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Nancy notes how much she’s missed him.

“We’ll find them Nancy.”

That much, he can promise.

For @stevemossington because screw you Lara what have you done getting me obsessed with Steve all over again.