#i worry too much about accuracy to designs

[axvwriter]

Mantis Shrimp merform Bobo

I was planning to have this done earlier this month, but then Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom came out and I got sucked into the game. Also the two monitors I've been using weren't displaying colors similarly so I learned about color calibration and hopefully my monitors are now color accurate. A bit disappointing to learn most of my art is most likely duller than what I thought they were. One way to see if my monitor is color accurate would be to print something out, but that requires being certain my printer isn't low on any colors and is printing like it should...

I did not shade this piece mostly out of laziness and wanting to get this done before May is over. I might shade it some other time, but I don't even know if I will or not. If I do, hopefully I remember to share it here.

[temis-de-leon]

Day 23 - Public kiss

Characters: Satan x male!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: a bit of insecurity, creepy demons being creepy, possessive behaviour, recently established relationship

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MC’s cheeks hurt from all the smiling and, not for the first time that night, he wished he could go back to being a useless human. Now that the important people trusted him more and more as a human ambassador, the cute little lamb he used to be became a ram with too much on his plate and little to no energy to do any of it.

The brothers said he’d eventually get used to it, to keep going beyond his limits and force himself to go even further, laughing at humourless jokes and letting creepy elders grab his arm for flirting purposes. They would bare his teeth and puff their chests, make themselves look bigger as if they were trying to intimidate MC. Or maybe impress him…? It was a blurry line that he wasn’t brave enough to cross.

Not like he was interested anyways.

It was only a week ago when Diavolo gifted him a tailored suit for the event, something that it would only belong to him and would describe him with an accuracy that no other garment would ever possess. Asmo and Levi worked on the whole process, only including MC for the design, and Barbatos supervised the whole thing.

To his surprise, however, it was Satan the one who begged to be the first one to see him wearing it. Of course, MC’s gigantic crush on the demon made it difficult to say no and, upon seeing MC, Satan’s gigantic crush on him made it impossible to not ask him to be his date.

So there they were, holding each other’s hands and dancing whenever they had the chance, talking to ministers, nobles and officials in the midst of all and barely having time to just coexist in peace.

The palace was full of guests, servers and journalists and at some point MC could’ve sworn he saw a TV crew waiting for something worth recording in the side-lines. Still, none of them seemed to care about Satan’s fingers tangled with his or half of the length of his tail carefully curled around MC’s ankles.

Whether the gesture was out of worry for the crowded space or not, MC didn’t know, but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

Would it kill for the reporter to enjoy it too? Sure, the new human ambassador dating one of the Avatars wasn’t the most interesting sight to witness during a formal party like the one they were in, but there were tabloids in the Devildom, right? He’d seen the magazines before, gossiping about the brothers, so why wasn’t their potential relationship as interesting?

MC knew the opinion he cared the most was Satan’s, but why did he care so much about everyone else’s? Did they see MC as an ephemeral partner that would go back to a normal friendship in no time? A fling that would last only the duration of the event?

The thought set his heart on fire. Closing his eyes and breathing slowly to control himself, MC tightened his grip on Satan’s hand and turned in his direction, only able to watch as the blond talked to someone MC didn’t know. They were rich and important, that for sure, and when they saw him including himself in the conversation, they stopped talking and wasted no time in holding MC’s free hand to kiss his knuckles. Satan tensed next to him, but stayed quiet.

“You must be the exceptional MC!” they exclaimed, not letting him go “I’ve heard wonders about you”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yes, no doubt”

The unknown demon smiled in an expression that creeped MC out, their nasal voice clinging to his ears as they sang praises. Next to him, Satan sighed, crossing his arms without letting MC’s hand go and consequently trapping them together. Not that MC minded.

“You’re truly cherished amongst us humble demons” they were saying, adding a curtsy to his words. “I am very happy to finally meet you”

“Likewise”

He was being insincere, noticing a dark second meaning behind their adulation that he couldn’t identify. Thankfully, Satan started talking again. His voice carried venom and a warning, both for MC and his acquaintance.

“Maybe humble is not the most accurate description for you”

They gasped before laughing loudly, consequently catching everyone else’s attention, but MC could see that deep behind his glee at the banter, the demon felt offended.

“Have I ever been selfish, my lord? Have I not granted you gifts and wishes?”

First row tickets, limited books, designer clothes. The words were left unsaid, but they were still there.

“Perhaps you did, yes” answered Satan in complete calm, ignoring the jab with elegance “But I much rather spend time with my boyfriend right now instead of talking. You understand, don’t you?”

His voice got louder and louder as he talked and MC understood that this would be the most public announcement he would ever get. At first he smiled with joy, believing that Satan also wanted everyone to know about their reciprocated love, but then he saw the disappointment in many demons’ faces, as well as witches’. It wasn’t just to boast their newborn relationship, then. Satan wanted people to know and to stay back.

His heart violently accelerated his rhythm, making him feel jittery.

“Of course. We’ll talk in another moment” the demon finally said before briefly bowing and leaving with dignified steps.

Keeping his composure, but unable to hide his playful smile, Satan closed the distance between them and gave MC a quick kiss. There was only a second of dense silence before the rest of the party went back to their own devices. As if it never happened.

“Should we go get some drinks?”

"Kiss me again and I'll think about it" MC said in a breath, making his boyfriend laugh in delight.

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Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @craftysclown @mehkers

[wizisbored]

first go at some clear references for blood red. fully going for vibes over historical accuracy here

some notes:

ballister has cut his right sleeve short and pinned it up since he doesnt have a prosthetic in this au

he still has his holster on his right hip with the handle pointing back which i imagine would be very awkward to grab with the left hand but hes yet to go through with relearning to shoot left and one handed

in both the comic and the film the red of ballisters cloak (only the lining in the film) matches the shade of something in nimonas design, so i gave him the red back panel here. couldnt find a shade i liked for both of them but its still a nod to that

nimona could still have pink hair, given shes shapeshifting it rather than dying it, but its just the vibes yknow. could probably push it to be a redder shade of ginger tho.

likewise, she could ditch all the dirt and bloodstains between shifts, but she doesnt see the need to. whos blood is that? dont worry about it :)

shes got a slightly oversized 'mens' collared shirt on under her bodice. i put it in quotes because its something she shifted on so its not like it was manufactured with men in mind, but its a traditionally mens shape/cut

shes got a holster but no gun. thats where she keeps her collection of bullets shes been shot with

her horse form is taken pretty much directly from the film but colourshifted to be more of an unusually red chestnut than pink

like in the film she has the same eyes in every form, so she still has round pupils in horse form

her brand is shifted rather than being an actual burn scar

the halter and reins are just a bit of rope that ballister tied around her head when he thought she was just a regular horse, and after she reveals herself are just used to keep up appearances as a sort of real horse disguise

eventually nimona steals a saddle for herself. in human form she carries it around despite the fact that it should be way too heavy for her to be doing that casually

[moreespressoformydepresso]

I’m working on a thing where all the tributes of the 10th Hunger Games won separate games, ultimately leading to president Snow getting his shit rocked because he sucked from the beginning and TBOSAS proved that, and I was thinking about how all the tributes would have won their games. The way you play the game and what led to your victory will probably have impact on how you cope and what exactly triggers PTSD. I’ve been mostly focused on Lamina and Treech because I love the district 7 tributes they’re built different, but I’ll try to come up with as many as possible for this list:

Velvereen was a career, and scored multiple kills while working with them, but ultimately the alliance broke apart as their members died off in their attempts to hunt down others. Velvereen, being less murder-happy, didn’t get revenge killed, nor did she get overwhelmed by a tribute she attacked, which left her as the last of the pack standing. She won because her last opponent used a melee weapon and she used throwing knives. Thanks to the advantage she had by not only having a long range weapon, but also a lifetime of training to hone her accuracy, she ended their would-be-battle swiftly and took the win.

Facet was also a part of the career pack, not necessarily hunting people down but going out of his way to kill whoever he came across that wasn’t a career. His weapon of choice was a spear, and he won by leaving the career pack when the water got a bit too hot under the team’s feet, and spearing the last tribute like a cannibal-style meat skewer.

Sabyn made full use of her superior health and knowledge of building structures in an urban arena. Aside from using her skill with the mace to bludgeon people to death, she also used it to hit all the weak points in the structures and collapsed walls on top of people. She took out the last remaining tributes by collapsing a building on top of them and killing off the survivors with her mace.

Marcus spent most of his games using his vastly superior physical strength and more well-fed state to his advantage, knowing most of his allies were waiting for the moment they thought they no longer needed him to get rid of him. His solution was to run awa- just kidding he killed them all in their sleep and used the intellect everyone thought he lacked for the rest of the games until the final fight, where he bashed the other tribute’s head into the rocks and then choked them to death.

Teslee wins her games by using her knowledge of electronics to reactivate the mines around the starting platforms and hiding in the cornucopia when there’s only four people left. When the mutts drive everyone to the middle of the arena, they’re subsequently blown up.

Circ wins his games in similar fashion to Teslee, except he gets forced to help the careers with his intellect and knowledge of technology. In response, Circ uses his intellect and knowledge of technology to trick the careers into protecting him and handing him weapons until he no longer needs them, then having the plan they made him execute literally blow up in their face and electrocuting several of them in the process. The last career is killed when Circ evades their attacks until they hit an electrical line with their fully metal weapon.

Coral probably won the same way she almost did in the movie. She was part of the career pack and made sure to be the one to backstab their allies first. There is no little brother figure for her to be worried about, nor are there snakes designed to kill every last person in the arena, so she has all the room and time she needs to handily shish kebab the last tribute and claim victory.

Mizzen doesn’t have as much brutal efficiency, nor the physique that Coral did even though I’m aging him up. He instead wins by mixing her strategy with the tried and true method of staying away from the things that could turn you into a pincushion. It’s like Marcus’ approach in reverse, starting with intellect and finishing with brute strength. He joins the careers, but as soon as things go slightly south he takes out the biggest threat when they aren’t paying attention and runs for the hills (or ocean, because district 4). He lures the last tribute to a body of water by pretending to run away and using the dark so they don’t see the cliff coming, and once they’re in his territory he uses his net to catch them and his trident or knife to finish them off.

Lamina cries so much in the lead up to the games that everyone, including her mentors, have given up on her. Once the games actually begin she surprises everyone with her strategy and skill with an ax, climbing a mountain high enough that people can’t kill her without going up themself and only coming down when she has to. When she does, she stockpiles water and food so she can stay up as long as possible while waiting for the others to whittle down the numbers. On one of her runs she finds a tribute who had a run in with the careers and was tortured almost to death. At their request, she puts them out of their misery. At the end of the games she’s barely got a scratch on her and is still at peak health for the circumstances. She’s forced to come down by the gamemakers, and all but one tribute is killed by the mutts. However, they’re so badly hurt that they beg her to just finish it and end their torment, at which point she hands out a second mercy kill.

Treech won his games by focusing on survival during training and pretending to be very bad at wielding an ax, only showing enough skill to avoid suspicion since he’s from the lumber district. He used good looks and charm during the interview to gain sponsors and talked about home to set up a proper sob story to get sympathy. He used the confusion of the cornucopia to snatch some of the supplies further away from the cornucopia and stays hidden from other tributes for the entirety of his games. Thanks to his stealing from everyone, including the careers, without getting caught, he has enough screen time to maintain his sponsors without putting himself in too much danger, especially before he gets his hands on an ax. His only kills occur during the final minutes of the games, where he jumps the last three careers once he realizes they won’t fight each other until he’s dead and waiting for the capitol to send mutts is more dangerous. He uses the element of surprise to jump the careers, cleaving one in the head and throwing his ax at the career with a long range weapon, before using his knife to injure the last tribute while stopping them from fatally wounding him until he manages to pull the ax from the body of the second career, turning to avoid a swing and gain momentum before swinging down and planting his ax in the last kid’s neck, killing them instantly.

Bobbin lost his arm in the games (I cannot see him as someone that isn’t Knox Gibson), and killed someone with a needle since he knows five ways to do exactly that. After losing his arm, he stayed alive by sewing it and several dangerous gashes closed so he wouldn’t bleed to death. He tripped the second to last other tribute using thread from his clothing and they got ripped to shreds by mutts that had been released into the arena. The last person was killed with that same thread, a brick, and yet again a needle.

Wovey used her perceived disadvantage (again, I cannot see a Wovey that isn’t Sofia Sanchez) by making everyone believe she’s weak. The arena was an industrial terrain not unlike district eight, which meant hiding was a piece of cake for her. Also, she used her knowledge of these kinds of buildings to lead whatever tribute was chasing her around until they were in a prime place for her to strike or ran into another tribute to strike for her. The last tribute was pushed into a machine, which crunched them to death.

Sheaf used her agility to her advantage, and luckily there was a sickle in the arena for her so her strategy became to rush at people with melee weapons, who would then predictably prepare to block a head-on attack, only to duck past them and cleave them in the back. She won her games by tiring her opponent out and decapitating them.

Panlo picks up on skills easily, and in the three days he had at the training centre he learned to shoot pretty decently with a bow and arrow. He’s best with a sickle, but they didn’t have those in his arena and he’d rather stay long range so bow and arrow it was. Nobody expected him to become so proficient so quickly, and since none of the careers used bows Panlo waited until after the bloodbath to run to the cornucopia and grab the set, as well as some supplies. He spent his games scoping out good sniper posts and shooting anyone who got too close for comfort, winning the games by waiting for the last two to finish duking it out and shooting the winner in the stomach, then finishing it with a shot through the chest.

Tanner won his games by joining an alliance (not the careers) and relying on their numbers to keep others from attacking him for as long as possible. During the final fight he uses his strength to wrestle the other person to the ground and uses his knife and experience from working in the slaughterhouses to gut them.

Brandy wins her games by using everything she knows from the slaughterhouses to kill the other tributes. During her last battle, she wrestles the other tribute to the ground and snaps their neck.

Dill is also aged up, and used her fragile state to play innocent before dropping all sorts of deadly things on people’s heads from the trees and poisoning them with her knowledge of agriculture.

Reaper is basically Thresh if Thresh hadn’t died so the capitol could have their star-crossed lovers death battle (you cannot tell me the storm didn’t have that exact purpose, the mutts are more ambiguous). Physically intimidating and strong, but deciding to lay low for most of the games rather than going on a rampant murder spree. He refuses to play the game and doesn’t kill anyone until he and one of the careers are the last two standing. The skirmish ends with Reaper scoring a revenge kill for his district partner, who was killed by this tribute.

Jessup used his strength to to intimidate the other tributes into steering clear of him. He joins the careers right until they’ve got one more dangerous tribute to get rid of, at which point he knows it’s time to cut his losses and run away. He keeps the careers alive, because he needs them to get rid of the other tribute and he’s lower on the priority list, but he knows that once that kid’s gone he’s the next to go. So he subtly stalls them until a night where it’s his turn to watch and grabs as many supplies as he can quietly get his hands on and leaves them behind. Another tribute stumbles across them and gets rid of half the pack, but that’s not Jessup’s concern. He wins the games by smashing a bottle over another tribute’s head and stabbing them to death with the shards.

Lucy Gray Baird wins by becoming the capitol favorite for her games. Her “performance” leads to her getting more sponsors than even some of the careers, which allows her to stay alive without having to put herself into much danger to get supplies. She wins by singing to snake mutts until they recognize her scent and stop attacking her, at which point she has venomous sentient weapons in her arsenal which she makes full use of, taking out two tributes with snake bites and ultimately distracting the last other tribute with them, using the opening it gives her to kill them.

I genuinely cannot think of anything for Hy, Sol, Ginnee or Otto for now, sorry 😅.

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part VIII: horseshoe overlook iv

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 15.2k

summary: it's time for the train job, the biggest job you've ever done. You've got a bad feeling about it, and by the end you wish you would have listened to your gut.

a/n: Surprise! Early post! Thank you for your patience with this chapter! Yall know I always upload on Wednesday, but i was so sick that i couldn't write, and i had to go to the ER on tuesday night to get fluids. Anyway, this has been the scariest chapter to write ever. Don't kill me please and please don't give up on this series... love yall, don't yell at me and please trust me. This chapter was too long and got split into two parts: part two will be posted in three days time.

beta read by @margowritesthings

warnings: violence, death, minors dni, 18+

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

Arthur leaves long before you even wake up, heading back down to Blackwater to find Sean. It gives you a sick feeling in your stomach, but you trust he’ll be okay. Arthur is smart, and even though he's good at getting himself in sticky situations, he's equally good at getting out of them. It doesn't do much to help your worry, but it’s all you can cling to for right now.

You swirl your half empty cup of coffee in your hand, leaning down for the percolator to reheat it. The fire is warm, alongside the sun, and you find yourself grateful for the off the shoulder shirt you’d picked up a few days ago. It's the perfect temperature you think, tasting the bitter coffee. You're startled out of your thoughts by a weary presence.

“Penny for your thoughts, ma’am?” Kieran asks, walking passed to sit down opposite of you on a crate. He looks nervous, like he was afraid to come sit, and you feel sorry for it. Kieran seems like a nice man, just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Just thinkin’ about all that's goin’ on… I see they let you live, huh?” You chuckle, and Kieran nods, nervously. 

“Well Mr. Morgan convinced Dutch to let me stay, I thought maybe that was your doin.” Kieran says, and your eyebrow pings up in shock. 

“Did he now?” You hum, surprised by Arthur’s choice, “No, That was all Mr. Morgan. Well good for you, I just hope he won’t regret it.”

“Oh he won’t! I'm real good with horses, miss, worked in a stable most my life. I’m sure I can be of help with anything you folks need, especially in that regard. I can do anything, even latrines. I’ll earn my keep, miss, I will.” Kieran stutters and you nod, eyeing him over. 

“But speakin’ of horses… that palomino over there, the blue eyed one, is she yours?” Kieran asks, nodding towards Athena, who has her neck to the ground, tearing through the bale of hay there. You smile, watching as she pins her ears at Old Boy, keeping the hay for herself. 

“Yeah, she’s mine. Just got her since we’ve been here.” You smile, and Kieran takes note of her configuration. 

“She looks like a thoroughbred. Nice and tall, lean and muscular.” Kieran points out, and you hum at his accuracy. 

“She is.” You respond, eyeing whether or not Kieran has a motive or if he's just a lover of all things equine. You sip at your bitter coffee, letting him speak for himself.

“Y’know palomino thoroughbreds are of the rare sort, n’ with those blues? Well you got a real fine animal, miss.” Kieran says, doting over your mare. You smile, making a note to mention Kieran’s knowledge of horses to Arthur. Maybe that could be his designated contribution. At least he’d be doing something he enjoys instead of getting harassed and threatened by the gang all day. 

“Thank you.” You hum, drinking the rest of your coffee. 

"Well I reckon I better take my coffee and head back to shuckin' corn till they give me a better job. But it was real nice talkin' to you, miss. You're the first person who's treated me like a person rather than an animal since I've been here." Kieran smiles, filling up his cup with the percolator before nodding to you and heading back to Pearson's wagon. You frown, feeling sorry for him. You were lucky enough to have been found by Arthur, but it could have gone any other way. O'Driscolls could have found you first, and you could be in Kieran's shoes right now. 

Sighing, and taking your cup of coffee, you stand up and walk past Strauss's tent, ignoring his greeting. There's a little log sitting near the edge of the cliff behind his tent, and it's a perfect little spot to sit and think. Not wanting to be bothered, your eyes stay pinned on the log as you make your way towards it. The view is breathtaking, you can see everything from the Dakota River to the tops of the Grizzlies from the spot as you sit down, drinking in the warm air. It's a secluded little area, far enough from camp to get away from the arguments and bickering, but close enough for safety. You're enjoying your solitude, watching two bucks fight down below the cliff, they're antlers are stuck together as they rip and rug. It's an interesting sight, until it's interrupted by a throat clearing behind you. 

"John." You sigh, annoyed not with his presence but the fact that you know why he's here. 

"Nice to see you too." John chuckles, bringing his leg over the log to sit next to you with a cigarette between his lips.

“Gotta get some supplies for this train job, I could use an extra hand that ain't a dumbass.” John asks, leaning backwards to stretch. You sigh, not wanting to even think about the damn train job. But nonetheless, you nod. 

“Sure. What exactly is your plan for goin’ about it?” You ask, scooching towards John as he pinches the cigarette between his fingers, shaking it before tossing it on the ground. He pulls a map from his pocket, unfolds the heavily used paper, and holds it out for you to see. 

“Trains' comin’ from Riggs Station. It’s dropping off its security detail in The Heartlands, and after dark it’s heading down to Rhodes to pick up the next regiment.” He explains, tracing his finger over the paper from Riggs Station to Rhodes. 

“So it’ll be completely unguarded for this whole stretch of tracks?” You ask. It sounds too good to be true, but you know that John and Arthur have done this enough by now. They know how to get proper information. But the idea of the train job still makes your stomach flip with anxiety as you’ve never robbed anything as big as a train. 

“Well, not exactly. The security that they’re payin the big bucks for won’t be there, but we expect a few armed passengers, and some local boys guardin’ the train for extra cash. It won't be completely unguarded, but it sure as hell won’t be a militia like you’d expect.” 

You nod, taking the map from his hands gently, and looking it over. 

“Where do we board, n’ how are we boardin’ it?” You ask, and John places his index finger over a little area labeled Dewberry Creek, just past the Lemoyne/New Hanover stateline. 

“Here. We’ll have to stop the train, or it’ll take us right into town. I figure we get an oil wagon, ease it over the tracks. When that train comes through and sees that oil? It’ll stop just fine. We board her, encourage those rich bastards to give up their grammy’s pearls and we ride out.” John explains, tucking the map back into his pocket.

“Alright… seems like a solid plan.” You admit, ignoring your gut, “Where do we get a full oil wagon?” You ask, dusting some dirt off of your new jeans. 

“That’s where you come in. Only place I reckon we find one is the oil fields, out in The Heartlands, you know of it?”

You shake your head no, “Uh-uh.”

“Well it's well guarded for the most part, but most of those guys sleep or drink on the job. And they don’t get paid enough to give a damn. I’m heading over now to scout the place out, get an idea of the schedule. Thought maybe you could tag along, put that head to use instead of washin’ clothes for old Susan.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure if he's just complimented you or insulted you, but still, you nod. 

“Alright. Let me pack some stuff, I’ll meet you by the horses.” 

John nods as you walk back towards your tent. With a sigh, you pull the canvas open. Your saddle bag is sitting on your bed, and you stuff it with some provisions and a change of clothes, then decide that you’ll need to grab some more ammo from Arthur's tent just in case. Once everything is all packed and settled, you swing your saddlebag over your shoulder and head back out. You stop around the back of Arthur’s wagon, picking up a few cases of express bullets and some throwing knives from the makeshift armory. 

“What does she want from him now? I never liked hearin' about her…” Marybeth hisses, and you look up, startled, realizing she is standing in Arthur’s tent. You’re peeking around the back of the wagon, eavesdropping as Marybeth places a crisp white envelope on Arthur’s bedside table.

“I always thought Mary was nice…” Tilly responds, picking up the envelope and looking it over before returning it. 

“Nice like a patch of poison ivy.” Marybeth bites, and Tilly rolls her eyes. 

“You didn’t even know her. Not when she was really around, anyway. She was always kind, just… didn’t agree with our life. Can you blame her?” Tilly sighs, and they walk out of the tent together. 

Your eyebrows pull together, and you walk around the outside of his tent until you're at the entrance. You hum, looking at the envelope before striding through his tent towards it. It’s upside down on his table, and you know you shouldn’t be snooping through his mail, but you pick it up and flip it over regardless. Written in sloppy cursive is ‘Arthur’ and you look after the lettering for a while. The paper is fancy, the kind that is expensive and only available in the city. Your finger trails over the lettering, and it itches to tear the red seal off and read the contents, but you restrain yourself. You know if the roles were reversed Arthur would respect your privacy. Sighing, you place the envelope back and meet John by the horses, wondering who Mary might be the whole way over. John is just climbing into the saddle when you approach. 

“Ready to go?” He asks, settling himself down over Old Boy and checking the straps on his saddlebag.

“Sure.” You mumble, mounting up onto Athena and giving her a nice pat. Once you’re settled, the two of you start cantering out of the trails, nodding to Karen who is keeping watch. Instead of riding towards Valentine, John leads you out towards the Heartlands, into unfamiliar territory for you. You can’t help but think about those men, Milton and Ross, and wonder why in the hell you’re all robbing a train right now.

“Why does Dutch keep pushin’ this job?” You holler up, squeezing Athena to run faster after John.  

“I got no idea.” He yells back to you. Once you run over the tracks the terrain changes from grass to dry, sandy dirt, and you try to keep Athena on the trail to avoid getting any rocks lodged in her shoes. 

“It don’t make sense, we should be leavin. Now I don't want to, not at all, but there was Pinkertons right next to our camp, just a stone's throw away.” You shake your head, unbelieving of Dutch’s terrible call. 

“Do you think they know where we are?” John asks, turning in his saddle a bit as he gallops on. 

“No. No if they knew where we are they would have just came to camp… But still, approachin’ us like that when we had Jack with us? Tellin’ us, in front of him, what happened to Mac? They can all go to hell.” You hiss, and John goes quiet for a minute. All you can hear is hooves pounding as you wait for his response. 

“You and Arthur had Jack?” John asks, like he's angry, but mostly surprised. Your eyebrows draw together, unsure of why it’s a big deal.

“Well, yeah. Abigail asked us to watch him for a bit, just to cheer him up.” You respond as he leads you up the bank towards Citadel Rock. John huffs loudly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as if he disapproves.

“You got a problem with that?” You bite, noticing the tension in his shoulders, and his quiet, aggressive demeanor.

“She acts like I ain’t there… for her or the boy.” John hisses, shaking his head. It grows quiet again as you think back to Abigail’s pleading tears, begging you to take Jack because John wouldn't.

“Are you?” You ask, with some judgment. John really thinks about your question, slowing Old Boy to a trot as he comes up near the slope of Citadel Rock. He left them, but he came back, that counts for something in his eyes. Surely, it counts in Abigail’s eyes too…. 

“Well yeah!” John says defensively, “Im tryin’... tryin’ to get money for them at least, so she can raise the boy up proper.” John says, stopping his stallion at the edge of the cliff, overlooking The Heartlands. You pull Athena up alongside him, stopping so you can look him in the eyes. 

“Money don’t matter if you ain’t there for ‘em.” You whisper, no harshness or judgment in your eyes, although he takes it with such, pulling back and scrunching up his face in anger. 

“The hells that supposed to mean?” He bites, dropping his reins and throwing an arm in the air towards you. You keep your calm demeanor, only wanting to help the little family. You have no quarrels against John or his parenting, but you’re the one in camp watching Abigail comfort a crying Jack when his daddy isn't there to tuck him in night after night.

“It’s just…” You think over your words, tongue darting out over your lips, “Your boys' real upset, he misses ya John. Abigail won't admit it but she misses you too.” Your wrist rests on the horn of your saddle, toying with the leather reins as you watch John’s face soften. He sighs, eyes downcast as he runs his hand over his face, careful not to catch the healing stitches on his right side.

“You think?” He asks, looking up to you, and you nod your head up and down, sure.

“I don't know what I’m doin’ Star.” John sighs, doubting himself. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be there for Jack and Abigail, he doesn't know how to. He doesn't see himself cut out to be a father or a husband, and he has a hard time believing his family wants him around. 

“None of us do,” You huff a laugh, thinking of your own situation with Arthur, “You just gotta try your best to do right by them.” 

John nods, offering you a small, sad smile as he leans over to tap your knee in thanks. Without another word, but with a mutual understanding, you both dismount your horses. Then it’s time to get down to work. John takes both the horses, and he hitches them down the bank a ways so they can’t be seen from the roads or the fields. As he takes them away, you pull out your binoculars. Crouching, you look through the glass and take in the infamous Heartland Oil Fields. There is one big building, the factory, on the left side of the tracks that run straight through the place. On the right are smaller buildings, you’re presuming bunks, outhouses and storage rooms. The entire place is fenced in, except for where the tracks run through and the main entrance, guarded by two armed men. You search for an oil wagon, and find a few but you’re not sure which are empty or full. Armed guards stand all around the place, and there is a damn moat of oil ponds on the right perimeter. You pull the binoculars down, hearing John return as he walks up beside you. He too is eyeing the factory, face drawn up as he thinks over a plan. 

“How do you reckon we go about this?” You ask, handing him over the binoculars. He takes them, and does the same look around that you’ve just had. 

“We stay here and figure out their routine. They have a checkpoint at the front gate, so if we watch them long enough we’ll know which wagons are full and when. Then we slip in at night, once the workers have gone home. We’ll only have to get past the guards.” John explains and you sigh, nodding. You look up at the sun, holding your fingers up to the horizon. It’s nearly 4PM, you’re gonna be here for a while.

“Why don’t you make us a fire or somethin? And grab my bedroll too. This is uncomfortable as hell.” You ask of him as you plop down on the dirt, taking the first watch. 

— — — — 

“Star?” John mumbles, and you groan, eyelashes fluttering. You curl your knees in tighter until John shakes your shoulder.

“Star, get up. It’s time to go.” John says, and those four words alone pull you from your slumber, it's time to go.

In the past six hours you and John had traded shifts a handful of times, and both picked up the same pattern. A wagon is filled every hour on the hour, and then left for only ten minutes while the guards do their rounds. Once the ten minutes are up, the wagon is taken out the front gate by a heavily armed detail, and sent off. You had suggested earlier that it might be easier to steal the wagon after it leaves the oil fields, but John had said the risk of the oil wagon getting shot would be too high. So you stick with the original plan, leaving you only ten minutes to sneak into the place and sneak out with the wagon. It’ll be hard, but it’s your only option. 

“They just started their rounds, hurry up.” John explains as you scramble to your feet. You notice he has the camp taken down already, and the fire is nothing but smoking ashes as you quickly roll up your bedroll. Quietly whistling for Athena, you wait for her to arrive before strapping down your bedroll and jumping onto her back. The ten minute countdown has already begun as you and John gallop down the hill. 

“Which way do we go in?” You ask, running after John towards the right flank of the fenced oil fields. 

“We're gonna come up on the right side, ditch the horses a ways out, and jump the fence. Wagon should be sitting right there. Then we just drive it right out the front gate.” John hollers back, slowing Old Boy down once you can see the fence. Coyotes yip and howl in The Heartlands, making the night even more eerie as you approach the factory. With the dark and the distance, none of the guards can see your horses as you both dismount and break for the fence. You shoo both horses, signaling them to flee. And then you're running, keeping your breaths controlled and steady as you watch out for any straggling guards. John reaches the fence before you do. It’s not very high and he easily jumps over it. 

“C’mon!” John whispers as you throw yourself over the fence, landing painfully on your ankle with a wince. He grabs your elbow, pulling you along with him. Once you're inside, you take a look around to get your bearings. You see a few swinging lanterns in the distance, all guards on watch, but none of them look in your direction. Most of the lanterns near the bunk houses have been snuffed out for the night, leaving you to the shadows. You turn in the other direction and see exactly what you're looking for.

“Right there!” You whisper, pointing ahead to the wagon. It’s pulled in front of one of the tents, and John helps you run towards it. Two white shire horses are hooked up to the wagon, and you’re glad to see that they’re strong and agile. 

“Go on, get up there. I’ll drive.” John says, hushed as he breaks away from you to get on the left side of the wagon. You’re not sure how much time you have, but surely it’s not much. Your heart pumps loudly in your ears as you climb up the side of the wagon, ignoring the slight pain in your ankle. John clambers up, and just as he reaches the bench seat you hear a low, deep growl. You snap your head around to catch the source and the blood runs from your face at the sight of a massive bloodhound. A guard dog. His jaw snaps as he snarls at you with a warning. 

“John…?” You whisper, so quietly that he barely hears. He turns and sees the dog, and his eyes flicker from it to the guards walking on the other side of the factory. The dog's hackles are raised as it snarls, showing its teeth. You know that if it barks, or alerts the guards in any way, you’ll both be caught. John shushes it and slowly starts to roll the wagon away, quietly cueing the horses onward. The dog snarls again, snapping its jaws as you quietly ride the wagon away. 

“What do we do? What if it alerts someone?” You whisper, heart racing. If the dog alerts a single guard, you’ll have every person in the facility shooting at you. 

“I don’t know, drive like hell, I guess.” John offers as you watch the dog. John has the horses going at a nice trot towards the entrance, and sweat runs down your brow as the dog runs after the wagon. You’re just about to breach the front gate when it happens- when the bloodhound does what bloodhounds do. It bays, and it bays loud. 

"What is it boy? What ya find?" Someone hollers, and a lantern flicks on in one of the tents. John flicks the reins over the horse's backs harshly and they pick up a canter towards the front gate. 

“Shit!" You hiss as the dog continues, head tossed up in the air as guards start to come out and find the disturbance. One man comes out from a tent, still in pajamas with a rifle in hand. Your eyes widen as he stares directly at you. 

“Right there! They’re takin’ a wagon!” The barely clothed man yells, and John curses as he smacks the horses with the reins again, and they take off. More guards and workers seem to come out and see you all escaping, and everyone readies their rifles. John steers the horses out the main gate just as bullets start to whiz past your head. 

“Stop them!” Another guard calls out, “Get the damn law!” 

Bullets ping against the wooden wheels of the wagon, and buzz through the air past your head. You lean your head down to protect yourself as you grab your carbine from around your shoulder, good thing you grabbed those bullets. 

“Shoot somethin’!” John yells, maneuvering the horses along the roads in the direction of Dewberry Creek. 

“Im tryin!” You yell back, loading your carbine before popping up and taking down two guards who were shooting from behind the fence. A few bullets ping against the side of the wagon, and you gasp, realizing how quickly it could go up in flames. You pop up from the bench again, and fire into the chests of three men who were running after the wagon.

“Watch the damn oil, you morons!” One of the guards yells to his men. You shoot down three more men before you have to reload again. John is getting you further from the oil fields, and the flashing of gunfire gets farther away until two riders come out after the wagon. You’re still filling up the magazine when they ride up on you, and John ducks, yelling something. A few more bullets whiz passed before you stand up and shoot both men down from their horses. You pant, ducking as three more riders gallop after you both. John has the horses running at a dizzying pace as you stand, taking down two men. You're extra careful not to shoot or hurt the rider's horses as you come up and shoot the last man. 

“Is that the last of them?” John yells as you pant, wiping sweat from your brow and slumping back into your seat. 

“Yeah, that's all.” You breathe heavily, tossing your carbine strap back over your shoulder. You whistle, and turn around to watch for Athena. John does the same, and luckily after a few minutes, both come running behind the wagon. 

“Where we takin’ this again? I know you said the creek, but specifically?” You ask, taking your hat off and setting it in your lap to untie your braid. You pull the cloth tie out, running your fingers through the waves that are now down your back. 

“We’re droppin’ it near this torn down house. I’ll leave the horses go and we'll come back for it when the train comes through.” John explains, and you nod. 

It’s a bit of a ride, especially with the pace you go at. The horses are exhausted and scared from the shootout, so John doesn’t push them past a trot. It's nice to just relax in the passenger seat, and you focus on the humming of bugs and frogs while your heartbeat settles. It's a cloudy night, the kind where a cold fog settles over the place, but you don't mind. It's still beautiful. The moon pokes through the fog in a hazy glow, offering some light for John to lead you to Dewberry Creek. He winds the wagons down the open hills until you reach a small trail along a big dried up creek bed. 

"Guess the creek ain't fairin' so well." You point out, watching as coyotes yip and run through the dried up creek. 

"Guess not." John offers, pulling the wagons toward a structure. It looks like a little house that burned down. The foundation is intact, along with the fireplace and support beams, but the rest has burned away. 

"We pull them off right here." John says, turning the horses to walk in between the house and a patch of trees. He starts to slow them down, and you hop from the wagon before it stops. Immediately you jog around the backside to check the cargo. 

"Shit, John! Shit!" You hiss, taking in the oil wagon that is riddled with random bullet holes. There's about five or six, and no more oil leaks from them. You knock on the side of the wagon as John jumps down, groaning when the wagon sounds hollow. 

"All the oils' gone." You sigh, rubbing your face as John paces around the backside of the wagon. Athena grows antsy from the upset, and she stomps and rears lightly. 

"Now what the hell do we do?" You ask angrily, calling Athena over to comfort her. You hand her an oatcake to munch on and stroke her neck as John comes up with a plan. Athena's gentle nickers calm you down, and you take a deep breath as she leans into your hand. John is standing back from the wagon, hands on his hips as he thinks it over.

"It'll work just the same. The conductor won't know if it's full or not." John says, biting his cheek and you sigh. 

"We can't just go get another one." John huffs, "That oil factory is on high alert now." 

"You're sure it'll work?" You ask, stepping towards him with raised eyebrows.

"It'll work." He reassures you. You nod, sighing and waking towards the front of the wagon where the two white shire horses are hooked up. John does the same on the other side, and you both slice the leather harness straps, freeing the horses. 

"When's it comin' through?" You ask, patting the shire horse to run off. 

"Tomorrow night." John says, and your stomach aches at the thought. Only twenty four hours until your first train job. 

Athena and Old Boy are grazing next to each other just a short walk away from the wagon, and you and John silently walk towards them, sheathing your knives and watching as the pair of white shire horses run up over the hill, bucking and whinnying.

"You ever rob a train before?" John asks, looking over at your anxious expression. You shake your head, coming up to Athena. 

"No, afraid not. Just drunken idiots usually." You chuckle, and John smiles. 

"Y'know I'm glad it was Arthur's watch you stole, and not mine back in Tumbleweed. I probably never would have noticed, and you'd still be runnin' all over hell in the west." John chuckles, and you smile at the memory, mounting onto Athena. 

"Still can't believe he brought ya back like he did, but I'm glad for it." John says, climbing onto his stallion. Your eyebrows pull together lightly at his remark.

"Why's that?" You ask, cueing Athena into a canter with John behind you.

"Arthur, he ain't never brought someone back to camp before you, and he throws a big fuss when someone new comes in. He gets all pissed and leaves for a few days. He says it's 'easier to lie low with less people.' Musta seen somethin' in you, though." John hollers up to you, and your features soften. You wonder why Arthur chose differently for you, why he brought you back to camp. 

"He's different with you." John says, galloping alongside you, and you have to push Athena further ahead to hide the blush on your cheeks. You want to quip something back, but you come up short because you know he's right. You've heard the same testament from each of the girls, Hosea, and Arthur himself. 

It grows quiet as you gallop through The Heartlands, avoiding the roads and any lingering lawmen. It's late, near midnight when you finally get close to camp. You can hear the cheers and laughter from the road, and you smile back at John.

"Guess they found him." You chuckle, trotting Athena under the fallen tree into camp. When you breach the trees, coming into the little opening, the sight has you laughing. Camp is lighter than it's been in a while. Sean is standing on a crate giving some grand speech with everyone gathered around, and by the sound of it he's already drunk. You hitch Athena, and John nudges your elbow. 

"Reckon I'm gonna go be with my family. Thanks for your help." John pats your back before walking off towards the camp. You smile, taking off the straps of Athena's saddle and placing it over the hitching post before walking towards the crowd.

"Get a load of this bastard." Arthur huffs, walking up beside you with two whiskeys in hand, gesturing to Sean. He hands you a drink, and you smile, glad to be home. 

"Found him strung up in a damn tree surrounded by bounty hunters." 

"A-and I owe my life to old English over 'tere!" Sean points to Arthur, "Yep, 'tats right! Old grumpy Arthur Morgan! Come to save me, ya did! You're my brother, ya arsehole!" Sean laughs heartily, jumping down from the crate and approaching the two of you. 

"Miss!" Sean calls out to you, and Arthur chuckles, sipping his drink. Sean comes to you with a big toothless grin, a contagious one, and wraps you in a hug.

"Ah, I've already got the gossip from Ms. Jones, callin ya Star now, eh?" Sean asks, letting you go before nudging you with his elbow, "It's fittin! Y'know they say you twose are tied together like glue!" Sean winks at you lightly, nudging you and gesturing to Arthur. 

"I know a couple good spots for a shag if you two need a getaway. N' I know an Irishman if you get tired a' this ol'-" Sean starts, pointing to Arthur, but Arthur has had enough.

"Would you please shut up?" Arthur bites, hand pulling away from the bridge of his nose as you giggle. Sean puts his hands up in mock surrender. 

"I was just teasin'! Only pullin' yer leg!" Sean chuckles, tipping his hat to you before backing away and rejoining the crowd. 

"I did not miss that kid." Arthur sighs, leading you towards the campfire where Javier sits, playing a tune. Everyone is in good spirits, especially as Hosea enters with Dutch and two huge, full cases of alcohol, announcing the return party. 

"Yes you did." You tell Arthur, smirking as he sits down on the wolf pelt covered log. You sit down right next to him, closer than what's expected, but you're growing used to the proximity, finding comfort in it even. Sean is talking loudly to the girls as everyone gathers around the crates of hooch. The bottles pass around quickly as Javier picks up a new tune. It's one that everyone knows, and you smile. 

"Cielito Lindo." You remark with a chuckle as Javier picks up the rhythm on his guitar. More people gather around the fire. Dutch, John, the girls, Uncle, Lenny, even Abigail and Jack join in as Javier starts to play. Jack sits on John's lap, nestled right next to Abigail, and you smile at them. 

"¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! ¡Canta y no llores!" Everyone hollers out, not sure of the lyrics or their meaning, but enjoying the energetic song. Even Arthur sings along, and you giggle at his steadily behind, off key tune. 

"¡Porque cantando se alegran, Cielito lindo, los corazones!" Javier sings out, passionately stringing the guitar as a few people clap along and laugh. The smile on your face is brighter than it's been in a while as you watch the weight lift off of the gang's shoulders. Arthur is smiling, and for that you are very grateful. You'd do anything to see him like this more often, carefree and happy. Javier continues the song verse, and everyone claps along until the chorus comes. 

"¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! ¡Canta y no llores!" Everyone calls out again, and you hold your drink up a little as you sing it. Javier continues the song, and you chuckle as Jack pulls Abigail up from her seat to dance with him. He spins around and hops with very little rhythm, just having fun. Arthur chuckles beside you, eyes bright as they lay upon the same scene. 

"You want another drink?" Arthur asks, noticing that your first is nearly gone. You shake your head. 

"No thanks, think I'm cuttin' myself off for the night." You say, handing the bottle over for him to finish. 

"I'm surprised you drank at all after that mess in Valentine." Arthur chuckles as Javier sings out the song's verse. 

"I only had one. Don't plan on bein' that sick ever again, and we got one hell of a job to do tomorrow." You whisper, mind lingering on the train job. You'd like to drink, just to forget about it, but heading into it with a foggy mind is the opposite of what you need. Arthur sighs, digging the heel of his boot into the dirt. 

"We do." He remarks, eyes flickering up to Dutch. Arthur can't understand why Dutch is pushing this job right now with the Pinkertons so close. But he trusts Dutch, and knows he'll lead them out of it. You're not so sure. Dutch is watching you from across camp, a snake-like glint in his eye. You can see the way he wants to use you, to play you like his chess piece and defeat some great power. It's useless, it's ridiculous. An outlaw runs from the law, but Dutch is challenging it, intentionally aggravating it. It's a dangerous game. 

"I got a bad feeling about this job, Arthur." You bring up that gut feeling again, and you know you're right. You don't trust this job, and something is going to go wrong. 

"I know you do… You and John get that wagon today?" Arthur asks as Javier picks up a different song on his guitar. 

"We got the wagon just fine, but it's empty. We were caught red handed and they shot it to hell, all the oil leaked out." You sigh, embarrassed to admit the failure to Arthur, "John says it'll work just fine though, the conductor won't know if it's empty or not." You add as Arthur curses. 

"Enough about that, why don't we just enjoy the party?" You ask, wanting to talk about anything other than the train job and the damn empty wagon. Arthur taps your knee with his knuckles. 

"Sure." He says, offering you a small smile and you release a breath. Javier is playing a new song now, one you don't recognize, but it's a joyful tune, light and happy. 

"Arthur!" Marybeth calls from across the fire, giggling and trodding over towards you both with a big, bright smile. 

"Yes, Miss Gaskill?" Arthur asks as Marybeth comes forward and grabs one of his hands. 

"Dance with me?" She asks, leaning back in an attempt to pull him from his seat. He chuckles, looking over to you for a moment with a rosy blush on his cheeks.

"Oh, I think I'll sit this one out-" Arthur starts, but you shove him upwards by his shoulder, laughing. 

"Go on!" You encourage, shooing them with your hands. Marybeth giggles as she pulls Arthur away, and he turns around to shoot you a glare, with pink cheeks. You chuckle, looking after them as she takes him away from the fire. She pulls him just near the back of Dutch's tent, beside the poker table. He takes her hand, standing awkwardly far from her as the other rests on her waist. You can't help but snort as he starts to dance.

He's awful. Truly the man can't dance, but it's just another quirk that you love about him. He swings side to side with her, arms loosely flinging about, and even though it looks ridiculous they both have huge smiles. A few others have joined, and now Dutch spins Molly around eloquently, and Karen and Sean cling to each other, drunk as ever. Your eyebrows pop up in surprise at the two of them. You had only seen Sean in passing before Blackwater, but Karen had never mentioned they were together. 

Your eyes flicker back to Arthur and Marybeth. They still dance merrily, but Marybeth seems to be scolding Arthur over something, arguing with him. Your eyebrows pull together as he huffs, bickering with her like a sibling would. Javier's song crescendos to an end, and as the claps die down, he starts a new one. You recognize it immediately, Ángel de Amor. It's a slower paced song, a sweet and romantic one. People join their own conversations as the song begins, leaving Javier to quietly carry the tune on his own. As it begins, Marybeth and Arthur's argument seems to come to a head as Marybeth gives him one final scold, and then walks away from him with a big smile. Confused, your eyebrows pull together as Arthur returns to you, but he doesn't sit down. He stands in front of you, extending his right hand down to yours. 

"Dance wit' me?" He asks, and you chuckle. 

"I don't know, you gonna trip me?" You ask, smiling up at him. The nervousness breaks away as he chuckles. 

"Not tonight." He says, and you take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. 

"C'mon." He whispers, leading you past the campfire towards the front of his tent, far enough away from the campfire for some privacy.

Arthur pulls you into the same goofy dance as he did with Marybeth, and you smile brightly. Arthur's sure that your smile could outshine the stars, evoking that joy from you is one of the better things he's done in his life, something he wants to keep doing. 

"¿Quién te cortó las alas, mi ángel? ¿Quién te arranco los sueños hoy?" Javier sings softly as Arthur dances with you. 

"Y'know, I'm sorry to say this Arthur, but you can't dance for shit." You chuckle, glancing down at his feet that move with very little rhythm. 

"Oh I can. I'm just havin' fun. You shoulda seen me in my ballroom days." Arthur quips, and you laugh. You're sure he's joking, how Arthur could willingly be put in a ballroom is beyond you, it's surely a joke. Arthur raises an eyebrow at your laugh, wondering if you're seriously doubting him.

"You weren't never in a ballr-" You start, but are cut off with your own gasp as Arthur pulls you tightly against him. His hand snakes to your waist, his other clasps your hand tightly as he stands up straight and tall with a raised eyebrow. His body is stiff, but relaxed all the like, he's collected in his movements, experienced, as he leans you down, dipping you. Your eyes are wide in shock, as he holds you in the dip with a cocky smirk. Your heart rate pounds with him pulled so tightly against you, your neck exposed and hair cascading down as he bends you backwards. Then he brings you back up, chuckling. 

"You continue to surprise me more and more every day, Arthur." You chuckle, still in disbelief, "Where in the hell did you learn that?" You ask, heart beat returning to normal as he pulls you against him again, swaying you in a very simple slow dance. 

"Had to take lessons once when I was younger. Didn't care for it at all, but I was an idiot back then." Arthur says, and you hum, wondering if these fancy dancing lessons have anything to do with the letter in his tent.

"Ángel, Ángel, ángel de amor. No te abandones." Javier continues the song as Arthur pulls you a little closer to him, hand warm on your waist.

Your cheeks flush, hidden away in his chest as Arthur sways with you on the grass. A few eyes linger on you both, but Arthur turns your back to them so you never know. He's enjoying the moment. You haven't left yet, haven't walked away with blushed cheeks or made an excuse as to why you can't dance with him, and that has to count for something he's sure.

 It grows quiet between the two of you as you rest your head against his shoulder and sway with him. Soon your arm grows tired, so Arthur snakes both of his around your waist and you place yours on his chest. It's incredibly vulnerable for you to be like this, but you trust Arthur. He hasn't pushed you. Abigail nudges John across the camp, nodding her head to you, and a few more eyes linger on you both. Arthur ignores them, keeping you in a position so that you can't even see the nosey stares. 

"You look beautiful." Arthur whispers, eyes looking down at you, watching as the wind tousles your hair and your dark red shirt brings out your complexion beautifully. Your eyes sparkle up at him, but you blush and hide them away in his shoulder as he sways you to the music.

"Arthur, stop." You chastise, cheeks red as you hide them. You're a bit upset that he's ruined the mood, taken your mind from simple dancing to the conundrum of your heart. He hums deeply, nodding his head. 

"You ain't ready yet, I know… I'll wait 'til you are. For you, I will." Arthur whispers, and tears begin to pool in your eyes, "And if you decide you don't want any a' this, that's okay too. I'm still your best friend." Arthur whispers, and tears run down your face silently, soaking into his dark shirt. 

"I'll dance with you for real one day, somewhere nice." Arthur whispers, and you look up to his green eyes. They soften when they see the tears falling from your own. You're thinking of a proper response when Arthur speaks up for you. 

"S'okay. You don't gotta say anything." Arthur whispers, thumb wiping away the tears from your cheek. You sniffle, hands clinging to the lapels of his shirt as the music continues on for a bit longer. 

"Yo no siento el que me hayas querido. Yo no siento el que me hayas amado." Javier sings, strumming his guitar.��

Arthur's heart aches, holding you like this, swaying with you and knowing you won't allow yourself to open up. He places his chin atop your head, inhaling deeply before letting the breath go with his worries. You're here now, that's all he can ask for.

Your heart aches just the same. It's torn in two,  both sides fighting for different things. One is fighting for what you know: independence, freedom, and solitude in the west without being held down by a gang. And the other is fighting for what you want: family and friendships, the safety of numbers, purpose and most of all him. 

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut while blocking the thoughts out, letting yourself enjoy the moment. 

"I'm sorry, Arthur." You whisper, and he leans back, unsure if he's heard you right. 

"What on earth are you apologizin' for?" He asks as Javier's song comes to a bittersweet end. 

"Me… us." You whisper, gesturing to him and yourself. You're a mess, unable to get your feelings in order, unable to figure out what you want, and to tell him. You feel awful, dragging him along without ever fully opening up to him but it's so hard. 

Arthur takes your hands in his own, and you look up to his eyes. 

"Cut that out. Don't you apologize to me, ya hear? Not for this." Arthur says, no room for argument and you nod. 

"Now c'mon. Plenty of people waitin' for us at the fire." Arthur says, pulling you by the hand towards the camp. You pass by John's tent, feeling a little better.

With a small smile on your lips, you walk on with him. That is until you hear a shuffling from John's tent, and a groan. You stop dead in your tracks, looking up to where John and Abigail sit next to Jack by the fire. If they're at the campfire… who's in their tent?

"C'mere ya little minx!" Sean chuckles from inside the tent. Your jaw drops, and your hand falls slack from Arthur's. He turns at your reaction, catching the same scene. 

"Isn't this John's tent?" Karen asks, and you hear the ripping of buttons immediately. You look at Arthur with wide eyes, and a slack jaw, chuckling in horror.

"Eh, it's not like he's usin' it anyways!" Fabric hits the floor as you and Arthur stare at the closed tent in shock, "Ah, you're beautiful Karen Jones, beautiful, I love ya! And I love these too!" Sean chuckles and your cheeks burn red.

"Oh." Karen whispers, disappointed in something as you start to laugh. 

"Meet Macguire junior!" Sean hollers, and immediately Arthur clasps his hand over your mouth to quiet the loud laughter that was about to fall from it. 

"Is- is that it?" Karen asks, and you're nearly wheezing as Arthur keeps his hand over your mouth, chuckling himself until you're out of earshot from their tent. 

"Oh my god." You laugh until tears form in your eyes, and Arthur is laughing as well. You've managed to escape in front of Arthur's tent to avoid the show those two are putting on. Once your laughter dies down, you wipe your eyes, moving them to the campfire once more. 

Abigail has taken Jack into her lean-to next to Strauss's wagon to lie down for the night, and some of the girls along with Dutch and Molly have retired for bed. 

"You comin' back to the fire?" Arthur asks, following your gaze. You look up to him, then to the festivities, biting your cheek. 

"I think I'm gonna go to bed, actually." You whisper, feeling bad for bailing so soon. You're exhausted from the oil wagon today, and you want to be well rested for tomorrow. Arthur’s face falls a bit as he glances at the party behind him, then to his pocket watch. 

"So soon?" Arthur asks, looking a little disappointed. 

"I'm sorry Arthur, it's just with the train tomorrow… I want to be well rested with a clear head." You whisper. 

"I understand." He whispers, it's past one in the morning, and he knows you're tired, "I reckon I'll stay up for a bit yet, keep these boys in line… Get some sleep, Star." Arthur whispers, coming forward to gently chastise you, tapping your temple, "and stop worryin' about the train. It'll go just fine." He offers with a smile before backing away. 

"Night Arthur." You mumble, attempting to follow his instructions and release your anxieties. 

"G'night, Star."

— — — — 

The next morning, you wake up earlier than expected. You don't know what time it is, still haven't replaced Arthur's pocket watch from where it was left behind in Blackwater. But it's quiet enough for you to know that no one else is up. You stretch in bed, enjoying the feel as your achy joints pop. You flex your ankle, noticing that the ache has subsided from your less than stellar landing yesterday, and then you're getting up.

You pull on a dark green overshirt, one of your favorites, a black pair of jeans that button up the whole way, and a little white neckerchief, tied in the front. It's a cute outfit, and you hum, checking yourself over before re braiding your hair and topping it with your black hat. Then you're on the move, in search of some coffee. 

You find that you were wrong, you're not the only one up. You chuckle as Jack whizzes up to you, more excited than you've ever seen. 

"Aunt Star!" He jumps excitedly, taking your hand and pointing to the hitching posts, "look!" He shouts, giggling. 

Your eyebrows knit together at the sight of Kieran taking on the role of the camp farrier. He has a very grumpy Balius with him, and he's working on pulling the nails from the shire's massive shoe. 

"Kieren's shoin' the horses…? You ask, confused as to why Jack's so excited, then a chuckle sounds out from your right. Arthur is leaning over his shaving station, face partially covered in shaving cream as he trims his mustache and beard with a barber's blade. You smile at the sight, something you've not seen him do before. Of course he shaves with an incredible amount of detail and care, just like everything else he does. 

"Well…" Arthur taps the blade against his pail of water before returning it to his cheek, "when Kieran's done, little Jack here will have four new shoes for playin' horseshoes' with everyone. We haven't been able to play in a long while, not since before you joined us." Arthur explains, and you smile at the idea. 

"Well then I can't wait!" You say, rubbing some dirt off of Jack's cheek before he runs off, on his way to tell his very hungover daddy about the ordeal. 

"You're good with him. He really seems to care about you." Arthur remarks and you smile. 

"Ah, it's nothin'. He's a good kid." You mumble, remembering your earlier task of needing coffee, and you spot the percolator from across camp near Pearson's stew pot. You wonder if it's even full, with so few of the gang members awake. 

"I'm gonna go make some coffee, want some?" You ask, but Arthur stops you.

"Already made ya some. It's sittin on my table, should still be hot." He says, wiping the extra cream from his face with a damp towel.

"On the ball this morning, are we?" You ask, chuckling as you move inside his tent to find a steaming tin cup of coffee. You gratefully accept the bitter coffee, enjoying the way the cup warms your hands and the caffeine wakes your mind. 

"Well I need a favor." He asks, turning towards you, "Ride with me?" 

You raise an eyebrow at him, seeing that he's bribed you, but you nod anyway. 

"Sure, where to?" You ask as he comes around the side of his tent, leading you to the large map plastered to the side of his wagon. 

"Think right here is a good spot." He taps the map right over a little marshy field labeled Heartland Overflow.  

"Why are we goin' all the way out there?" You ask, eyeing over the map. The marsh is near a spot marked Emerald Ranch, a place you haven't heard of before. 

"There's a feller nearby that runs a fence. I managed to steal some stuff from the camp where they had Sean, reckon I'll head down and sell it off. Then I figure me n' you can spend the mornin' there. I know you're worried about this train, we can just rest away from camp till it's time." Arthur explains, pulling out his hunting knife to sharpen the blade as he does. 

"Okay, that sounds nice." You smile, releasing a breath before taking a sip from your coffee, "Should I take my stuff for the train or will we be back?" You ask, gesturing to your tent. 

He follows your gaze, thinking for a moment. 

"Ya better take it, I don't know how long we'll be out." He mumbles, and you nod before walking back towards your tent. Amidst your anxieties, you had packed everything you might need for the train: your guns, mask, canned goods in case you get stuck away from camp, extra ammo and the shotgun you'd found at Six Point cabin. Looking over your bed and nightstand just to make sure you haven't missed something, you back out of the tent. 

"Kieran done with Balius?" You ask, keeping your voice quiet as to not wake up the many sleeping, hungover gang members. 

"Looks to be just about." Arthur says, nodding to where Kieran drops Balius's back hoof to the ground, giving him a pat. 

"C'mon then. I'll lead the way." He adds. 

You both take your time tacking up the horses. For once, there's no rush to be anywhere. You brush Athena's golden coat thoroughly, petting her and sneaking her treats while Arthur does the same for his stallion. You ease the saddle on her, tightening the cinches just enough before mounting up. 

"Ready?" You ask, looking down to Arthur with a chuckle as he is just putting Balius's bridle on.

"Just a minute." He says, rather grumpily. And you wait for him, loosening your reins so that Athena can graze while he clambers up onto his massive horse. Once he's up, he nods for you to follow him out of camp. It's a decently long ride. Emerald Ranch is pretty far out there, but it's close to Dewberry Creek, so at least you won't be far from the train come dark. You focus on the scenery, watching the way the landscape changes the further you ride on. As you get closer, the jutting cliffs turn to grassy plains, and bison cause the ground to shake as they thunder across the fields. 

"Are we close?" You holler up to Arthur. Your back is a little sore from the long ride, and you slip your feet out of the stirrups to give your legs rest. 

"Sure…  Why? You feelin alright?" Arthur turns in his saddle, glancing over your form to check. Really you don't feel alright. You didn't sleep much last night, truthfully you're not sure how Arthur is awake because he slept less than you. You're still not able to shake your nerves either. 

"Yeah, just tired is all." You semi lie, but Arthur isn't fooled. 

"I'll take you to the Overflow first. You can set us up a proper picnic while I run this stuff down to the fence. Sound good?" Arthur asks, turning Balius off the main road. 

"Yeah. You brought a picnic?" You smile, noticing that Arthur's saddlebags are bulkier than usual. You should have noticed earlier that they're stuffed to the brim. 

"I did. Nothin' fancy but I figured you might get hungry while we're out here." Arthur answers, and you chuckle, wondering what treats he's packed for you. You trot through the grass, coming upon a little collection of grassy ponds. This must be Heartland Overflow. It's beautiful, and wildlife runs about, scattering at the sound of the horse's hooves. 

"Why don't you take my bag n' find us a nice spot?" Arthur asks as you ride up alongside Balius. He turns in his saddle, untying the knots that hold his saddle bag on before slumping it over Athena's croup. 

"Okay. Don't take too long or I'm gonna be havin' this all for myself." You admit, chuckling as you turn Athena away, separating from Arthur. 

Arthur shakes his head with a smile before pushing Balius into a canter towards a green-roofed barn in the distance. Once he's down the other side of the hill and you can't see him any longer, you turn to your surroundings. 

Across the pond is a large weeping willow. It provides a perfect amount of shade, and makes a beautiful spot for the morning. You kiss to Athena, urging her to walk through the ankle deep water toward the other side. Water splashes up and soaks onto your boots as Athena trots through it, enjoying the coolness on her legs. Once you're on the other side, under the weeping willow, you slide down from your mare. You don't bother to hitch her. She trusts you enough to come when you call, and you want her to enjoy the grassy fields while she can. You take the heavy saddle bag and toss it to the ground under the willow before sitting on your knees to go through it. 

First you take out a blanket, it's a big blue one, and you stand to spread it out on the grass. The wind works to your advantage as you sprawl it out, making a perfect cushion for you both to sit on. Then, seated on the blanket, you pull out two cans of peaches, two bread rolls, a can of strawberries, two slices of beef jerky, and a chocolate bar. You eye the food hungrily, laying it out nice for when Arthur comes back. Then, just to double check, you reach back into the bag. Your fingers brush against an unfamiliar smooth texture, and your eyebrows pull together as you grip it, taking it out. 

Immediately your eyes go wide as, from the bag, you bring out Arthur's journal. You hold the precious book in your lap, looking down to the heavily used pages before looking up at the ridge.

You shouldn't… but Arthur won't be back for some time and you really want to know what he's written. You've only seen the contents of his journal once, back when he showed you in Horseshoe. 

Releasing a breath, you curse yourself, deciding just to flip to one page and then put it back. You run your thumb across the pages, flipping to one of the more recent entries. Immediately you smile, chuckling as your eyes run across the page briefly. It's a drawing of you and Lenny. He's leaning on the bar, drinking a beer and you're dancing in front of the pianist. Arthur had managed to capture the moment perfectly, as if he had paused time and drawn it. You scan down your smiling face, looking back to you in the form of Arthur's sketching. Even in the drawing you can see the drunken haze in your eyes, the freedom as you danced to the piano to your heart's content. 

Then your eyes flicker to the other side of the page where a neatly written entry is scribbled diagonally on the paper. 

In some ways I hope I never forget this night. In others, I wish to wipe it from my mind entirely. It seems that alcohol loosened Star's lips, and I guess it loosened mine too. I just hope I don't come to regret the things I said, the things I remember at least. 

You look up from the journal, jaw slack as you attempt to remember what happened that night. What had you said? What had Arthur said? 

You swallow thickly, looking down to the journal with some worry before flipping to the next page. 

Mary sent me a letter. Said she's in town and heard talk of us in Valentine. She wants to see me, said she misses what we had. I used to. I used to miss her a lot, but I reckon that's all old business now. I think I've finally put Mary in the past, moved on after all these goddamn years. I got some hope now, something good for once. 

You look up from the journal with your jaw open again. His journal has left you with more questions than answers, and you huff. Mary clearly meant something to Arthur at one point, perhaps an old fling? But the girls knew of her, so she had to mean something more. 

With a newfound sour mood, you tuck Arthur's journal back into his bag. Is it jealousy you feel? Or anger? You're not sure, but without having met her, Mary manages to get under your skin. You wonder if she's pretty, and if she has the money to wear nice dresses and makeup. Then you sigh, frustrated. Even though his journal is stuffed back into his bag, you can feel its leather cover burning into your skin, bugging you. 

Hooves sound out from the ridge line, and you look up to see Arthur appear over the hill. He's cantering down towards you, satchel lighter now that he's pawned off some items. Even though you're glad he's back, you can't help the annoyed curiosity that bubbles up in your stomach. 

Oblivious, Arthur rides up to the blanket before dismounting. 

"Good spot." He says, sending Balius off after grabbing a flask from his satchel, "Turns out old Seamus sells too." Arthur chuckles, tossing the moonshine flask down onto the blanket by your legs. 

Attempting to crack a smile, you take the flask and unscrew the lid. Arthur rests down on the blanket beside you, sitting just a few inches from you. Once the lid is undone, you take a swig of the alcohol. It burns, more so than anything you've ever drank, and you cough, throat raw from the stuff. 

"Jesus." You cough, handing the flask back to Arthur. 

"Moonshine. Nasty stuff." Arthur jokes, taking a drink from the same flask. He doesn't seem to mind it, only groaning once it's down. Arthur sees the distant look on your face, he notices that you haven't touched any of the food laid out either. 

"You okay?" Arthur asks, a little crease in between his eyebrows. You look upset, and Arthur hopes that you're not worrying about the train. 

"Who's Mary?" You blurt out, not even realizing you've actually said it out loud until Arthur's face draws up. 

"What?" Arthur asks, looking almost offended, and very surprised. 

"I asked you, who's Mary?" You repeat, looking up to Arthur. Your tone is irritated, and you realize that you're ruining the picnic, but you can't bring yourself to stop. You're mad, mad because Arthur has managed to keep this from you, and apparently you're the only one in the damn gang that doesn't know about her. 

"How do you even know about Mary?" Arthur scoffs, eyes squinted as he leans back from you. 

"Jesus, I didn't realize she was a secret. I guess I just wanna know why she's callin' you out to her house all the sudden when I haven't even heard of her before." You bite. 

Arthur's demeanor changes then, shifting to the angry, threatening man that you've only seen a handful of times in action. Part of you wants to shy away, but you push your shoulders back and meet him head on with the same stubborn aggression. 

"Did you read my damn mail?" Arthur hisses, glancing at you, and then down to the bag at your side. Everything seems to click in his head then, and he huffs humorlessly. 

"No. No you read my goddamn journal, didn't you? Just couldn't keep your nosey eyes off them pages huh?" He bites, picking up the bag just to toss it at your feet. The contents spill out in your lap, and his open journal falls out alongside the candies he had brought for you, the yellow ones. 

"Y'know I hope you read it all. I hope you read every damn page, cause then you won't have to ask anymore questions. We wouldn't be playin this damn game…" Arthur hisses, pacing as he begins to berate you. "Why do you have the right to ask me about Mary when you haven't told me shit about your past? You can't even talk to me. You can't open up at all, closed off like a damn bottle, but you have no problem pryin' into everybody else's lives!" He growls, waiting for you to bite back.

On the ground, feeling like a fool, your lip trembles. You know he's right. He's hit the nail right on the head with his assumption, but it hurts nonetheless. You've stepped too far, you know, but it doesn't stop Arthur from overstepping too. 

"Heard you was pryin' into John's business too. God- you're a hypocrite. Did you think at all about your inability to handle your own shit before you went and did that?" Arthur fumes, and you bring your knees up to your chin. Arthur is waiting for your retort, for your comeback. He knows it'll come, but with his back to you, waiting, it doesn't. You always have a retort, and your silence is louder than any insult you could have thrown back at him. When he turns back towards you, already realizing he's crossed a boundary, he sees the tear track running down your cheek.

"Don't." You whisper, sniffling back the tears that fall so often now, "I can take this from anyone but you." You whimper, head falling to your knees. 

When Arthur's eyes land upon you he doesn't know what to do. You look so small, crumpled up on the ground, a mess. He wants to argue with you, to be mad about the journal, but at the same time he wants to comfort you. He knows what you're battling right now, and he knows he shouldn't have brought it up. Feeling like an ass, Arthur slumps to the ground at your side again. He lays back against the blanket, looking up at the sky before sighing. 

"Mary was my fiancé. Long time ago. Ain't talked to her in years." Arthur admits, and you peek up from your knees, wondering what sparked the change in his tone. 

"Now that's all I'm giving you until you tell me somethin too. But for now, eat somethin. We gotta get movin soon." Arthur says, coldly. 

— — — —

It's nearly dark. There's just enough light for you to make the trip over to Dewberry Creek. You lead the way silently, still not having said a word to Arthur since the argument. You don't know what to say. Apologies aren't exactly your strong suit. You're mad. Mad at Arthur, but mostly mad at yourself for ruining the day with your selfishness, your hypocrisy as Arthur put it. 

You can hear Sean rambling as you approach the old building, and you trot Athena up to where the wagon is hidden. 

"Why the hell are you here?" Arthur snaps at Sean, clearly still irritated from earlier. You've put him in a sour mood, one that everyone is going to have to deal with. 

"Oi I’m just taggin along! Back for a day n’ already jumpin inta the action! My da always used to say that jumpin in was better than jumpin’ out! But I think he was talkin about gettin some arse!" Sean chuckles, not skipping a beat over Arthur's attitude. 

"Oh, shut up." Charles groans, and at the sound of his voice you notice him leaning against one of the beams of the burned down house. John is already in the driver's side of the wagon, and Taima and Old Boy are hooked up to the front. You dismount, walking over to the wagon behind Arthur. 

"Look at us! Four strong shootin men, and a lady!" Sean chuckles, climbing up on the wagon beside John who rolls his eyes. 

"Shouldn't we be going over the plan?" Charles points out, climbing onto the side of the wagon to hang on, just as you and Arthur do on the other side. The wagon begins to roll out of the trees as John smacks the reins over the horse's backs. 

"We roll the wagon over the tracks and leave the horses go." John explains, "They'll see the oil and stop. It's easy." 

Sean turns in his seat, looking over the wagon before turning back to John. 

"Yeah but t'eres no oil in the wagon." Sean points out, and collectively everyone else rolls their eyes. 

"Well the conductor don't know that, so it don't matter!" John bites, irritated with everyone's doubts and questions. 

"I don't like it…" You whisper, gripping onto the metal bars of the wagon as it rolls down the road, inching closer towards the train tracks. 

"We ain't got much of a choice." John replies. Once the plan is set, Arthur begins ordering people around, crafting a more detailed plan for the job. 

"As soon as she stops, board her. Charles, deal with the conductor and the front security. John take the passengers. Sean and Star, as soon as she slows, head to the baggage car." He orders, and you roll your eyes at the assignment he's stuck you with. 

"And what are you gonna do?" Charles asks. 

"I'm gonna make sure she slows." 

John pulls the wagon forward, slowing the horses to a stop once the oil wagon is situated over the tracks. You jump down as John and Arthur begin untying the horses from the front, sending them away into the woods.

"Is everyone good with the plan?" Arthur hollers, and you look around, realizing that this is happening. It's inescapable now, and you'll have to deal with the anxiety in your chest. 

"Yeah, we're good." Charles answers, and you nod your head, eyes fixed on the bed in the railroad tracks where the train will be approaching shortly. 

"Alright everyone get in the woods!" Arthur orders, pulling his mask up over his nose before placing one of his boots on the iron track. Charles notices your hesitancy, and grips your arm to pull you towards the treeline. 

"Hey, you alright?" Charles asks, pulling your neckerchief up over your nose as you've forgotten. You nod, a little too quick for his liking. 

"Just nervous." You admit. 

"Just stick with Sean. You'll be okay." Charles offers, squeezing your shoulder lightly. You nod, focusing your attention back on Arthur. 

You feel the vibration of the train long before you see it coming. Arthur's boot shakes against the track, and once he feels it coming he climbs up on top of the oil wagon. You gasp, eyes going wide as he holds his carbine in front of him, in a threatening stance on top of the wagon. He looks like nothing short of a criminal up there, a cold hearted killer. He stands on the wagon with a threatening stance, symbolizing everything that the government wishes to destroy. Feet planted on either side of the oil barrel, it doesn't appear that Arthur will be giving the law a break any time soon. The sight of him standing up on that wagon is one you're sure you'll never forget. If you didn't know Arthur, you'd be terrified. 

Nothing can be heard but uneven, anxious breathing as the train comes around the corner. it's far off, too far for the conductor to see Arthur, but once the bright white headlight peeks around the bend your breath hitches in your throat. 

Arthur cocks his repeater, and you watch as the train comes closer. You expect the train to blow its whistle, for the conductor to do something to warm off Arthur, but he doesn't. Your eyebrows draw together as the train continues to barrel forward, unbothered by the obstruction ahead.

"Why ain't it slowin'?" You ask, breath uneven as your heart rate picks up speed. 

No one responds, watching as it continues forward. Even Arthur seems to lose his composure, stance faltering as the train continues on. It's getting closer to the wagon, and you're not sure if it'll have time to stop before it crashes. 

"There's still time. Hold on." Sean says, eyes flickering up to the rapidly approaching train. 

"John?! Why ain't it stoppin?!" You beg, looking frantically between Arthur and the train. Charles pulls out a pair of binoculars, looking through them to the engine car. 

"Shit! He's dead or he's asleep, but either way the train isn't stopping." Charles says, stuffing his binoculars back as anxiety pangs in your chest. The train is too close now, it can't stop in time even if the conductor were to wake up.

"ARTHUR JUMP!" John screams as all four of you jog out of the woods. Arthur glances between the group of you and the train, unable to hear over the rumbling and screeching. 

"JUMP!" You plead, screaming. Arthur glances at the train once more, and getting the message he jumps as far out as he can. He hits the ground hard, rolling down the slope before he stops. It's only seconds later that the train smashes into the oil wagon. You thank god it's empty, and there's no explosion, but the metallic screech hurts your ears as the train pushes the wagon over in a huge crash. Sparks fly as metal scrapes off metal, but the train carries on forward, pushing the oil wagon in front of it until itfalls off to the side. 

"Why the hell didn't he stop?!" Arthur yells, whistling for Balius.

"The conductor is dead!" You yell, "Are we really still doin' this?" 

Four horses come running up the hill towards you, and the boys mount up ahead of you. 

"Yes! Now mount up, we can catch it before it gets to Rhodes!" John yells, and you leap onto Athena, urging her forward before you even put your feet in the stirrups. The chase is terrifying. It's hard to see in the dark, and you put full trust into Athena as she barrels forward after the train. Sean is the first to catch up, and he jumps from his horse onto the train's roof.

Your heart pounds in your ears as you run forward, watching as Charles, John and Arthur all jump onto the train. 

"Star, cmon!" Arthur yells, and you try to breath as you stand in your saddle, barely able to balance. You jump as far as you can, hoping that you'll make it. The jump is terrifying, but worse is the pain as your body slams against the side of the train. Only your hands have made it to the top as you grip onto the roof, feet dangling down to the rapidly passing ground below. Then a hand grips yours, and pulls you up into the roof. You gasp, looking up to yours and Arthur's hands, muttering a small 'thanks' between trembling breaths. 

"Plan stays the same. Charles, get this thing stopped!" Arthur orders, just as two armed guards climb up onto the roof.

"They're fixin' to rob the train!" One of the boys yells and starts shooting from his revolver. You unholster your own, balancing on the quick moving train as you fire twice into the man's chest. The second man breaches the top, and Sean takes him down with a headshot. The train makes you motion sick, and you have to bite down bile, forcing your eyes away from the ground. 

"We're gettin' too damn close to the town!" John yells, firing into more men as they climb up onto the roof. 

You whip around, looking for Charles to see if he's made progress in getting to the engine car. You don't see him on the roof, so you assume he's close. 

"John! Get down there, me and Star will hold them off. Sean, get to the baggage car!" Arthur yells out. They follow his orders, jumping down to the train cars from behind you and Arthur. 

"Why's there so many?" You yell over the noise as two more men fire toward you.

"I don't know, sure are a lot for an unguarded train- goddammit!" Arthur yells back. 

You lose your balance as the train quickly starts to slow down. Sparks fly and metal screeches as the train begins to slow. You release a breath, reloading your revolver as more guards shoot at you from across the train cars. The train never stops, instead in one fluid movement it slows enough and then starts going backwards.

"Wait- wait, shit!" You yell as the train starts moving in reverse. Just as quickly as the train has stopped, it starts accelerating in the wrong direction, back towards Valentine. 

"What the hell is happenin?" You scream back towards the engine car. You fire into one last guard, and then they stop coming up to the roof for now. 

"We're goin' too fast!" You point out, losing your balance again as trees start to blur by, making you dizzy. 

"Shit, I know. Just get to Sean, I'll see what's happenin' up front!" Arthur hollers, bracing himself as he jumps onto the next train car. 

"Star?" Arthur yells, and you turn around, "Don't get hurt." You nod, and with that he turns, running on the rapidly reversing train towards the engine.

You try to calm down your breathing as you run across the tops of the train cars, jumping as far as you can between each one. Your heart pounds rapidly in your ears, and the train accelerating is nothing but a background noise in your head. Revolver in hand, eventually you make it to the baggage car. 

"Sean you alive?" You yell, bracing yourself as you jump from the roof down onto the platform below. The land sends an ache through your knees, but you do land. 

"Yeah makin out real good down here!" Sean hollers back as you enter the caboose. 

"Why the hell are we in reverse?" Sean asks, stuffing a saddle bag full of cash and jewelry. You immediately get to helping him, ripping open the cupboards and stripping them of their content before shoving the precious items into Sean's bag. 

"I got no idea. Arthur n Charles are dealin' with it." You respond, glancing out the window and gasping when you see that you're nearing Flatneck Station. You've crossed the state line back into New Hanover, and in less than five minutes you'll be crossing over Bard's Crossing, the infamously high railroad bridge. 

"Oh my god, fuck." You curse, stuffing the bags even quicker. Shots ring out from the roof, and you gasp, neck snapping up. 

"That's gotta be Arthur or Charles." You gasp. You look down the train cars to see John pistol whip a man for not giving up his money. 

"Go help ‘em! I'm alright here for now!" Sean hollers, and you nod, running out of the car. Momentarily holstering your gun, you leap up onto the roof, pulling yourself up. Arthur is up there, shooting at a couple of men across the train as you run up to help him.

"You guys got the money?" He asks. 

"Yeah! Why ain't we stopped?!" You yell, shooting at the men, and clipping one in the neck. He falls off the train, and you wince as his body cracks against the quickly passing ground. Just then, Charles comes running across the cars, jumping over the gaps towards you. 

"Conductors dead! Doors locked and he fell on the reverse lever. I can't stop it." Charles explains, "We gotta go NOW, it's not stopping!" He yells, just as two more boys climb up onto the roof. 

"Rot in hell you bastards!" One yells, and you go to reload your revolver, but it's empty. You curse, looking ahead to where the caboose is barreling towards the bridge. 

A man climbs up from behind you, taking you by surprise as he knocks the gun from Arthur's hand. Arthur turns around and punches him right in the face, nose cracking as blood pours from his face. 

"Get off the train! I got this bastard!" Arthur yells, and you hyperventilate, glancing between him and the bridge. Sean and John have already jumped, and you see them riding alongside the train with Athena, Taima and Balius. Charles jumps down, just as Arthur kicks the man off the side of the train. He hits the ground with a sickening crack, and Arthur turns to you, no longer asking. 

"Star, go!" Arthur commands, and you gasp as another man comes up from the side of the train, pulling Arthur into a chokehold from behind.

"Get down here! We can't help him till you're out the way!" John screams up to you, and panicking, you leap. The jump is terrifying, and the land onto your saddle knocks the breath out of you. But then you're safe on Athena, barreling towards the cliffs edge where the bridge begins, waiting for Arthur to deal with the last guard. 

"Does anyone have a shot on him?" Sean yells, gun aimed up at the man who is fighting Arthur. Arthur's body is bigger than the man, and at the angle you're at, it's impossible to kill him without killing Arthur. Arthur struggles, elbowing the man in the gut to break free from his chokehold. 

"No!" John yells back. 

"Arthur!" You scream, though futile, watching as the train gets closer to the bridge. 

"I got this bastard." Arthur chokes out, coughing as he elbows the man enough to get away from his grip. You slide Athena into a stop to avoid running off a cliff as the train starts to go over the bridge. The wind howls in your ear from the elevation as you watch on in horror.

"What do we do!? John-" You whimper, feeling useless and helpless as Arthur punches the man, fists raised as they brawl atop the train. 

"He'll be okay. He will. He'll get down on the other side and we'll run over and get him." John replies. All you can do is watch as the train accelerates across the bridge, and you've never been so afraid in your life. Arthur takes a punch in the gut, leaving him vulnerable. 

"Does anyone have a shot!!?" Sean screams, gun raised. But Arthur is still in the way, and no one can help him, he's on his own.

Somehow the next moment happens in a lifetime, and a fraction of a second. Arthur takes a punch straight straight to the gut, and he doubles over, left vulnerable. The guard steadied himself, lifting his leg until the sole of his boot meets Arthur's stomach. The train is rolling right over the highest part of the bridge as the guard kicks out. Arthur stumbles, and the kick sends him falling over the side of the train. 

All the air leaves your lungs, your eyes go wide, and everything stops as Arthur falls. You're frozen, watching as Arthur falls down past the bridge. It's a high drop, too high. Your eyes go wide as Arthur's arms stretch up, attempting to grasp onto something that isn't there as he plummets two hundred feet down to the lake below.  

"No-" You breathe out, just barely a whisper as you stumble down from Athena, nearly falling from the saddle. 

"Arthur!-" John gasps.

"NO!-" You scream, breaths coming in quick, uncontrollable pants as tears fill your eyes and fall out in thick rivulets. You stumble to the ledge of the bridge, on the tracks, gripping the fence so tight that your knuckles turn white. 

The other three men are slack jawed, horrified. They all gasp, stunned beyond being capable to speak. When you look down, you see the rippling water where Arthur had landed, landed but not come back up.  

"NO!!" You sob, unable to hold back your tears as you fall back, hands never leaving the fence. Your cries are shoulder shaking, and you can't bring yourself to care that you are sobbing in front of the other men. 

"Get back to camp right now and don't get followed." John orders Charles and Sean, tears in his eyes that he quickly wipes away. They comply, silently nodding before turning their horses and galloping home, shell-shocked.

You're too stunned to notice what's going on around you, but your sobs have slowed, turned into aching, painful heaves as your nails dig into the fence, as if you holding on to it will pull Arthur back up to you. 

"Star?" John whispers, so quiet from behind you. You shake your head, knowing what he's going to ask of you. 

"Star, we gotta go. The law will be here soon." John tries to reason, fighting his own internal ache. You're not having it, not leaving, and John places his hands on your shoulders, begging you to come with him. You can't stop looking down at the rippling water, waiting for him to come back up, and tearing your eyes away when he doesn't, a vicious cycle. 

"W-we can't leave him John. What if he- what if he's down there and he needs help?" You cry, lungs aching. 

"I know. We won't. We won't leave him. But we can't help him if the law gets to us." He says, and you nod frantically, thinking over his idea. 

He tries to pull you backwards, away from the bridge. You make it two steps back before the anxiety of not seeing the water wins over and your body practically shies away from John. 

"I can't- I can't go, he…" You begin, biting your cheek until it bleeds, stuck in a state of shock that you can't shake. 

"John, what if he didnt-" You sob, unable to finish the sentence that plagues your mind along with the image of his plummet. 

"He did… Star I ain't goin back to camp missing two people, please come home." He pleads, turning as law whistles sound in the distance. 

"No. I can't." You say, stern in your choice. Because what is there to go back to without him? And what if he needs help?

"Where will you go?" He asks, glancing to the whistles in the distance. 

"I guess across the river so I-" your face crumbles at the idea, "so I can look for him." 

John nods, whistling lowly for Old Boy. The horse trots forward, and John quickly unwraps his camp kit from Old Boy's saddle before tightening it onto Athena's. 

"My camp kit. Take it, you'll need it." He turns to you then, red eyes looking into yours. "Be safe out here… and don't lose yourself. Arthurs my brother. But if he ain't back in a day or two, you gotta come home. He'd want that." John says, voice even raspier than usual as he deals with his emotion. You nod, tears filling your eyes as places his hand on your shoulder.

"If he comes back to camp I'll come for you right away." He offers, and you nod. 

And then he's mounting up, offering you a bittersweet tip of his hat as he rides away. And you're suddenly alone. There's no one here to pick up your broken pieces, so you pick them up yourself, climbing into the saddle and cantering away from the approaching law whistles. You don't try to stop the tears. Some are silent, sliding down your face and dripping into your saddle, but some are loud, and you have to leave go of the reins to sob into your hands. You make it to the other side of the river thanks to Athena, with Balius trotting beside you the entire way. No one tells you what to do when something like this happens. You're lost, left to figure it out as you operate like a shell of a human being, going through the motions to avoid the law. 

Once you're across the Dakota, situated just on the treeline close to the bank you slide down from your mare to sit in the grass, knees held up to your chin as you watch the water. You've never seen it so still. There's not a ripple other than the steady flow out to the lake. The law whistles get louder, and you listen for them as you numbly watch the water for hours, lost in your head. Eventually the law dissipates, giving up and going home.

You don't know if he's dead or not, but the chances of him being okay right now are bad. The bridge hangs over the horizon like a tyrant, a constant reminder of what's just happened. You try to avoid looking at it, try to avoid seeing the fall, the fear in his eyes as his feet left the train. 

You can't help but drift to the fact that your last real conversation was an argument, and you ache to go back in time and spend the day at his picnic like he'd planned. He was right about you. You're a hypocrite. All Arthur has done since you met him was offer kindness when you didn't deserve it. He gave and gave and you took and took. He told you his feelings time and again through his words and his actions. And you rejected him again and again. All because you were afraid. He said it when you went fishing with Jack, he said it when you danced at Sean's party and when you were drunk under the stars. Arthur told you he would wait. He would wait until you were ready. And here you are. It appears your time is up, and Arthur has waited all he can. 

You think back to that first night in Colter, what you'd told yourself that rang out to be true… good people die. 

Nothing happens for a long while. You don't move, and your limbs ache from your curled up position, but you don't care. You've been watching the water for hours to no avail, but then it happens. Something small washes up on the shore, something black. And as soon as your eyes flicker towards it your face crumples, and falls into your knees with a sob. 

"No, no, not him- please." You whimper to yourself quietly, realizing that he's really gone.

You wipe away your tears, finding the strength to stand up from the grass and pluck the object from the shoreline where it washed up. In your hand is an all too familiar black leather hat, wrapped with rope and adorned with a one of a kind hat ornament. 

You place it on the ground by your legs, curling in on yourself as the grief overtakes you, causing your body to ache and your lungs to burn from the sobs that erupt from them. 

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know

[mauesartetc]

Thoughts on Helluva Boss Episode 204 ("Western Energy")

Well that was a whole lotta nothin', wasn't it.

Let's discuss.

Pros:

-Edward Bosco does a fine job with Striker's voice, and Bryce Pinkham has a couple surprisingly powerful line deliveries when Stolas has reached his lowest point. It's nice when the story gives this character some emotional range outside of horny and mopey.

-This character design is way too cool for this show, like damn.

-Striker's living space was unique and interesting, and the magma in the environment matched his horse well.

-The fight scene with Moxxie and Millie vs Striker was well-choreographed and the camera didn't move around too much. Looks like the animators learned their lesson from last time.

-I liked how Moxxie took a chance and used Striker's homophobia (or perhaps disgust toward "lesser" imps?) against him to escape his grip.

-The devil horns on the EKG screen were kinda cute.

Cons:

-What the hell's up with this title. "Western Energy"? Is that a reference to something? Is it a pun? I get the "western" part, but "energy"? It puts me in mind of some obscure Zen concept rather than this episode. Just vague, confusing and not clever. Hell, "Take The Shot" was right there! I know there's not much shooting in Striker's plotline (we'll get to that bit of stupid momentarily), but this references both the A- and B-plot! C'mon, writers. At least act like you care.

-Again with the arbitrary censorship... I think multiple characters utter the word "cunt" in this episode, but it's bleeped each time. Guys... This is an internet show. This isn't network TV. If you're worried about getting demonetized on Youtube, don't use that word in the script to begin with. Easy.

-Not many laughs in this one, huh. In the last couple episodes I've found at least one thing to chuckle about or say, "Hm, that's kinda clever, I guess", but man, I was stone-faced for the duration here.

-Is that really how you pronounce "Andrealphus"? I've been saying it "An-dray-AL-phus", but Stolas says "An-DREE-ul-phus". People who are more familiar with demonology than I am, feel free to weigh in.

-Speaking of which, it's quite an accomplishment to make Andrealphus look even worse than he did in his illustration. Something about how tiny his head is in proportion to his body throws me, and of course it doesn't help that his face was always pinched in a teardrop shape with a tiny beak (which looks nothing like a peacock, because fuck accuracy). And if anyone's wondering if he uses any ice powers this episode... He doesn't. He uses telekinesis to drop a couple lumps of sugar into his tea, but that's it. You rip off Elsa and set the guy up in an ice castle but couldn't even give him ice powers? What a load.

-Kinda floored at this line from Stolas: "Cheating implies a betrayal. This woman never gave two shits about me, or our very much arranged marriage."

For fuck's sake, writers.

"You guuuuyyyys, it technically wasn't even cheating, see? Stolas is totally innocent and pure and you should like him!!!" The camera even trucks out dramatically as if he's saying something heroic. Christ...

Even in an utterly loveless marriage, there's still the expectation that each party will be faithful to the other, and having sex with someone else is a betrayal unless both of them previously agreed to open up their relationship. No indication that ever happened here, so...

All this scene demonstrates is that Stolas hasn't learned a thing about being a fucking adult and owning up to his mistakes. This just doubles down on the whole "I'd feel bad if I hurt you" thing (when you obviously did hurt her, you twit). Does Viv Medrano seriously believe admitting fault and apologizing makes a person weak or unlikable? Because I have news for ya: It's very much the opposite.

-Also, Stolas ends that mini-speech with, "As far as I'm concerned, this divorce is far overdue." But... Stella and Andrealphus have already agreed to that. That wasn't even a question. They're just trying to settle what Stella will get in the divorce. Do these people even read their scripts out loud?

-Striker's return comes way too late in the series. There are too many episodes forming a cushion between his introduction and Western Energy for him to feel intimidating. It's possible IMP could've discussed a plan of action regarding Striker, but no one mentions him once. If the characters don't see him as a threat, why should the audience?

The tension would have remained high if, immediately after the harvest moon episode, IMP moved Stolas and his family to a safe house while Striker was still on the loose. Little does Stolas know, however, he's a sitting duck, since Stella has called Striker and informed him of their location. Feels like that'd be much more exciting than just ignoring his existence for five episodes.

-When Stolas calls Blitzo, he refers to Striker as "that little cowboy friend of yours", implying he remembers him from the Harvest Moon Games. But, um... Question. Did Blitzo ever tell Stolas Striker almost killed him?! We have no idea! It's never confirmed!

At the end of the harvest moon episode, I seriously thought the team just forgot to write Blitzo warning Stolas about his would-be assassin. I know the story's trying to get across how little Blitzo actually cares about him, but this is a pretty huge conversation to overlook. Like damn, just how thoughtless can one person be. Our hero, ladies and gentlemen!

-(Also, who the hell says they were "stolen", Stolas. You're not an object; you're a person. You were kidnapped. I know this is bordering on grammar pedantry but it's distracting how much this weird phrasing sticks out.)

-Once again, the symbolic sin colors are inconsistent. I mentioned in the last review that the Greed ring in Helluva Boss is green despite the fact that the traditional color for greed as a sin is yellow. In this episode, we glimpse the Sloth ring, as this official tweet informs us:

One problem: Sloth is pink instead of the traditional light blue.

I wouldn't mind this if the ring colors broke from tradition across the board, but they don't. The Wrath ring is red and Lust is deep blue, as is customary. So it seems the art direction is throwing darts at a board to see which rings get the "lol, random" color treatment and which ones don't. These odd choices would be much more understandable if there were a story reason for certain rings looking the way they do, but at this point, I think we know better than to hope for that.

-In both this episode and The Harvest Moon Festival, Striker is characterized as self-aggrandizing. His previous appearance saw him declare himself superior to other imps, while this one shows off his giant statue with an enormous boner. Why, then, is he annoyed at the little imps singing his theme song? Wouldn't that be an ego boost? It would've made more sense for him to play along with it, or even better:

STOLAS: How does one get their own theme song?

STRIKER: (smiles, rubs his thumb and fingertips together) You pay for it.

-All the scenes with Blitzo and Loona in the doctor's office could've been cut and the story wouldn't have lost a thing. You can show them arriving and show them leaving with Loona wearing the cone, but everything else in the B-plot is filler. These episodes aren't beholden to a TV schedule that demands the duration falls within a certain range. There's no reason this episode needed to be nineteen minutes long.

-Getting pissy at some rando wearing the same hat as you is just about the dumbest reason to start a fight I've ever heard. Let's change around the dialogue a bit:

BIKER: Lookee here, fellas! The city slicker got himself a cowboy hat! That is sooo cute. Well, if you wanna dress the part... (cracks knuckles) might as well play it. It's not perfect but holy shit, I came up with that in two minutes. What the fuck, Viv. This is why you have co-writers. They aren't there to kiss your ass and mindlessly accept everything you do; they're there to catch little things like this and make them better.

-There's no "thump" when the top of the exploded gas station hits the ground, and judging by its size and implied weight, there should definitely be a sonorous thump.

-Striker mentions that Stella paid him to give Stolas "the royal treatment" (aka a slow death), but if that's the case, why did he try to shoot him at the Harvest Moon festival? Why did he shoot at him in the cafe?? If one of those bullets hit, wouldn't that affect his payday? Also, can't help but notice how terribly convenient this is. We wouldn't want our expert assassin to be too efficient, or precious Stolas would be dead. God damn this is contrived.

-Here's a line with a ton of story potential that goes unexplored (and will probably remain as such for the rest of the season, let's be honest): Stolas points out that Striker "is working for a royal right now", exposing some hypocrisy in his hatred for them. This brings up an interesting question: Why is he in cahoots with this one specific royal despite detesting all others? Why is she the exception? Could it be his loyalty to her transcends a simple business relationship? If he has angelic weapons and wanted to kill just any royal, he could have done it. But maybe this is more personal. Maybe Stolas needs to die because he hurt Stella.

Perhaps on the other side, Stella shares Striker's belief that he's superior to ordinary imps- another exception. Giving any other imp the time of day would disgust her, but Striker's just different somehow. And being as athletic and rugged as he is, he's a far cry from Stolas, who she's never found attractive.

I know it's a pipe dream for this series to develop any romantic pairing besides Stolitz, but how interesting would it be if Striker and Stella were having an affair of their own, and genuinely loved each other? How would they reconcile their personal feelings with long-held prejudices? What kinds of effects would hiding this shameful secret have on them? Would they make strides to be more open-minded? Would they see how their relationship mirrors Stolas and Blitzo's and reach an understanding with them? Will Striker's anti-royal principles override his love for Stella? Will he, in possession of angelic weapons, fulfill his quest to kill all royals, including her? There are so many possibilities here.

But of course, wringing any kind of compelling narrative out of this show's villains would require the writers to treat them as complex people rather than caricatures, so... yeah.

-If Stolas' legs are untied, what the fuck is stopping him from getting up and sneaking out of the cave after Striker leaves him unattended? He even has enough range of motion to kick him in the face. Obviously his leg wound would cause mobility issues and he'd have to stop the bleeding so Striker wouldn't track him easily (perhaps rolling into a magma stream to cauterize the wound? If demons are immune to fire, as Episode 1 established, I don't think magma would hurt much), but goddamn, try something. If you're going to die either way, you don't have much to lose, do you?

OR, why doesn't he just roll off the back of the horse when they're still in the city? Just check behind you to make sure no cars are coming and bail, dude. Striker might not even realize you're gone until he's entered the desert.

This is the exact same problem Stolas had in Seeing Stars, where he was so helpless against the plot's demands he couldn't even climb out of a van window, or morph into his full demon form like he did in Truth Seekers, or just leave the studio to find his fucking daughter. Y'know how I keep saying these characters have no agency? These characters have no damn agency.

-Kinda weirded out by how flirty Andrealphus is with his sister. "You're so lucky you're attractive"? "My fiery vixen"? Just... why. I get that incest used to be a thing in real-life monarchies, but assuming Andrealphus has other romantic options readily available to him (see also: ambiguous bird class), this fixation on Stella doesn't make much sense. If Viv wanted to make him subtly creepy, well... there are other ways to do that.

And let's be real, we can safely surmise Viv hates research with a passion, so I'm betting she didn't get this idea from history, but from Game of Thrones. I get a strong feeling she sees real-world facts as boring homework and the fictional world as exciting and full of wonder. If a person just cherry-picks different elements from fictional media they like and stitches them together like Dr. Frankenstein grafts body parts, that'll result in something great too, right? ...No.

-You're seriously telling me Stella didn't know how royal lineages work after being betrothed to a prince since childhood?

I mean wow, the show has portrayed Stella as inconsiderate and comically sadistic, and now she's stupid as well? These writers are hell-bent on giving her zero positive traits, aren't they.

-"A Goetia's never behaved like this before." Are you shitting me, Andrealphus? Hell's existed for (presumably) thousands of years and not a single noble has fucked an imp before? I could maybe buy that none of them have been as stupidly blatant as Stolas has, so perhaps these affairs have gone unseen and unremembered. But assuming they never happened? Come on now.

-Where'd Striker's horse go?? Feels like he could've been helpful in the fight against Moxxie and Millie, but after the theme song, he's completely missing. We don't even see him in a stable or anything. I know he's animation-intensive but y'all could at least give us a narrative reason he's not on screen.

An easy fix to this would be to show Bombproof (yes, that's his name, and it's awesome, and I hate that the characters never say it) out of breath at the end of the long journey, and Striker telling him he's earned a good rest. He could then hop into a magma pool and disappear under the waves for the remainder of the episode. There ya go. Simple.

-If Millie's ordinary axe can chop Striker's angelic pistols in half, why are angelic weapons such a threat to demons? During the yearly extermination in this universe, what's stopping them from forming an army and shooting the angels' weapons full of holes? Crazy how a single scene can unravel Hazbin Hotel's entire conflict.

-Did y'all want any kind of satisfying closure between Blitzo and Stolas regarding what went down in the Ozzie's episode? Well keep dreamin', because we've got this horrendously half-assed, tacked-on bullshit that you'll easily miss if you blink.

Fuck you, show.

And in another text following this, here's what Stolas says:

"If you don't feel like coming, that's OK! I'm sure I can do without [the grimoire] for one month."

Why do you need the fucking book at all, Stolas.

He's used it to make the harvest moon visible at the festival, but it's never clear what purpose that serves. We've never seen him use it for anything in his daily life; just that thing that happens once a year. Come to think of it, we've never seen Stolas in his day-to-day job. As a Goetia demon, he has legions to command (Andrealphus even mentions them), but the story never shows us the political, leadership-driven side of his life. He just sits around doing sweet fuck-all. Striker's argument against monarchs is that they "talk over [the lower classes]", but there's a strong case to be made for them simply contributing nothing of substance to society.

All in all, this episode made me feel nothing. There was no meaningful progression in the story. Sure, Stolas is injured, but he has the exact same problems of being married to someone he wants to divorce and Blitzo being emotionally distant. Stella has the same problem of Stolas being alive, even though she herself called off his execution. Striker's still at large. Moxxie and Millie still have a squeaky-clean relationship, Blitzo's still an ass, and Loona will likely return to her regular self in the next episode. Functionally speaking, everyone ends the episode in the same place they began, making me wonder what the point of it is in the larger narrative. Getting a hunch that Viv just needed an excuse to hospitalize Stolas so the audience would pity him.

I'm calling it now: Stolas is out of the hospital in the next one. He might still have some bandages and whatnot, but his injuries won't present any real obstacles to him until they're convenient to the plot. I'm betting there won't even be scars where Striker stabbed him, because at this point, continuity is WAY too much to ask of this show.

If this were a better-written series, Stolas would actually use his damn wealth and political power to put a bounty on Striker's head that'd have everyone in Hell gunning for him. Or why not use those legions he has at his disposal? Furthermore, now that he knows Stella hired Striker, what's stopping him from having her executed, or banished, or imprisoned, or something? But then if the characters used their brains, Viv wouldn't get the plot she wants, and we can't have that.

The previous episode had me curious to find out what would happen next. This one just added nothing to my life. I don't know how much longer I can keep watching this show. I'm not a fan of hate-watching media as life is short and there are numerous shows and films out there that'll make much more enjoyable use of my time. "If it sucks, hit da bricks" and all that. Yet Helluva Boss still has a pull in being an incredible teaching tool for how NOT to write a series. Writing these reviews has been thoroughly educational for me, and it seems they've helped others as well. But fuck, man. At what cost. When will I finally throw up my hands and say "Enough"?

If I hear the next one's not terrible, I might give it a watch. But that's a pretty big if. I'm very tired.

[lilyblackdrawside]

The spellcard contract was established to allow youkai to show off their power and skills without causing too much damage. As such, the weapon to be used in battles under this contract is danmaku, which is designed to be non-lethal. It can damage and hurt you, evident by the post-battle portraits, but it won't kill.

Unless you're a fairy. or Mokou.

Yeah Mokou fucking dies.

Each time you clear one of her spellcards, she explodes as if you had won the battle and performs Resurection (sic) to resume the fight. Let's not worry about the details as to whether or not she actually immediately loses the battle after you clear her first spellcard and kill her and instead think about the themes of this.

For one, it's really funny. She's the frailest non-generic-fairy being that's ever been observed fighting a danmaku battle. Patchouli is sturdier than Mokou.

But it makes sense too. Mokou is immortal, so why care about defense. Just attack, attack, attack and if you die you just revive. She does still feel the pain, but at the point where the only regular danmaku battle is fought against her - Imperishable Night - she is at her absolute lowest. She (thinks she) doesn't have anyone or anything except her deep-seated hatred for Kaguya. She just lives in her run-down shack in the bamboo forest and wastes away, mentally. She can't waste away physically after all.

Like, yeah, if I was a resurrection-based immortal with a narrow-sighted view of the world that only lets me see endless attempts at vengenace, I'd also just fucking die.

Many will probably think of Mokou's self-damaging attacks that she uses in later games, especially the fighters, but in IN she doesn't really do that. She doesn't have any moves where she really goes that aggressive, she just shoots danmaku like anyone else. There aren't any aggressive charges like "Regretful Life - Immortality's Reckless Sacrifice" so it's not like she's "doing anything" with her immortality. She just doesn't give enough of a shit to stay alive. But then later on, she does start giving a shit. She realizes that she does have someone who cares about her (Keine) and gets out more, finds reasons to live other than killing Kaguya so instead of just fucking dying, she makes use of her endless life force to express herself. (by killing herself to kill you)

Thus, I find that only one fangame I've played that features Mokou really "got her right".

Most games have her as a kind of tanky bruiser with high hp, low to middling defenses, probably some kind of hp regeneration. TPDP comes to mind for high hp, low def which works to evoke the image of "you have to input a lot of damage to kill her but she's easy to attack", Labyrinth of Touhou does pretty much the same thing where in 1 she's just really bad struggles to do meaningful damage because of mixed-stat attacks and can't tank well either and in 2 she has a revive, health regen and conditional damage reduction and in Genius of Sappheiros she's one of your dedicated tanks, wearing heavy armor, having high health, being bad at dodging and having the ability to randomly revive at the start of your turn. At 1 hp. She can also do some really nice damage in the lategame.

And then there's Gensou Shoujo Taisen where she has the same body as Reimu but with slightly higher health. She's the same size (M), has the same base mobility (120) and armor (800), leaving her okay at dodging and extremely frail. She will die in two hits. She also has baseline 20% hp regen per turn and a variable number of revives that revive her at low hp (relevant) and give her +5 to all stats (stats =/= body). She also has Level 7/9 Berserk and Instinct Dodge, meaning she gets increasing damage reduction and crit (Berserk) and accuracy and dodge (Instinct Dodge) as her health drops.

This isn't practical, because she'll die in two hits. Initially, anyway. Having her revives already makes her excellent on offense against lategame bosses, because you can just throw her at them and let her die without worry. It's very convenient. Not useful on defense, cause if she dies she can't counter-attack, but it works out.

However, you can invest in her in several ways. Her mobility is good enough to make her meaningfully dodgy. It is the same as Reimu's after all. Her Evasion stat is lower than Reimu's, but that's pretty whatever. Stats don't matter that much in these games, Evasion and Accuracy in particular because you'll just cheat them anyway. So with that you'll wind up with a frail unit who's good at dodging and has fail-saves in the form of revives. Pretty cool, pretty cool. Not getting much out of those innate Berserk and Instinct Dodge skills though.

Other than that, you can also just build her as a tank. Yes, her defensive bases are ass, there's no other way to put it, but she has alright hp (Reimu's hp is ass and Mokou's is just a bit higher) and hp regen. You can outfit her with equipment that raises hp and defense and give her other defensive skills that mostly come in in Ei, but PP skills get reset between You and Ei anyway so that's fine. Now you have a decently tanky Mokou that gets really tanky at low health. If you max out Berserk, the effect is pretty insane. There are bosses that become borderline unkillable if you put them at too low hp% instead of nuking them with a big attack from a higher value. This is pretty good.

However, what I consider to be the best build for her (and for a number of units in general, basically anyone who has hp regen can do it) is a mixed grazing-build. For this you just pick up the Streaming skill that reduces the damage you take from grazed attacks. Grazing is a system unique to GST where you can have any unit enter Focus Mode to gain +10% accuracy, change movement range from their unfocused range to their focused range (these stats are unique to each unit) and ignore the basic effects of danmaku (danmaku is laid out by most enemies and will make you take more damage and reduce your evasion. These penalties are negated by being in focus mode). In focus mode, you also can't dodge anymore. If you successfully dodge an attack in focus mode, you will take damage based on your dodge chance. So if you have 50% dodge chance you either take the hit normally, or you graze it for half damage. This sounds pretty bad, but when your options are being in focus mode to maybe graze for half damage or not being in focus mode, thus having 0% dodge chance and taking +150% damage due to danmaku, you'll gladly go focus mode.

The Streaming skill at level 2 cuts graze damage in half, so in the 50% dodge chance example, the final damage will be 25%.

This pairs really well with the Instinct Dodge and Berserk skills, because Instinct Dodge will ramp up your evasion and Berserk reduces the damage you take as your hp declines, both of which reduces damage from grazed attacks. In focus mode, your hp goes down much more steadily than outside of it, because you're not gambling low-odds dodges while in three layers of danmaku, you're letting yourself take chip damage and gradually grow stronger. Of course, unless Instinct Dodge winds up getting you to 100% dodge chance, you keep taking chip damage until you die but that's where that health regen comes in. It'll keep you in an equilibrium, where enemies keep lowering your health until due to Berserk and Instinct Dodge, they can't deal more than 10% or 20% of your health per turn, whatever amount of regen you may have. (It'll be 10% usually, 20% is uncommon and you have to work for 30%) It's a really nice build, because it also makes all of her attacks pretty much guaranteed to hit between the +10% from Focus Mode and the Instinct Dodge bonus.

The only caveat is that Mokou's base Focus Movement Range is 2. That's the lowest baseline you'll see. It's not unsalvageable, but it does sting a bit. You can just pair her off with someone who has accel or a fast mover who can frontline her into the fray, so it's usually fine. There's a generic PP skill that gives +1 Focus Move and later on there's even gear for it, but Mokou only has two slots and usually wants other stuff to supplement her bad body.

Play Gensou Shoujo Taisen. It's like, the best fangame.

Also play Touhou. The regular games. They're good. Do it. Play on easy mode, there's no shame in it. Danmaku is a hostile genre that wants to break you down.

[accessibleaesthetics]

Remember when I talked about how how I wished there was some image-to-text AI instead just the text-to-image AI? Turns out there is!

This is a screenshot of an image-to-text AI called "clip_prefix_caption," specifically using the model "Coco." And while it's not 100% accurate, it still did a reasonably impressive job with this image. Of course, it kind of makes sense since this photograph is a free-to-use image I pulled off the web, which is almost certainly the kind of stuff this AI was trained on. If we get a type of image very different from what this AI was probably trained on, the results are not nearly as accurate.

But that's okay, Coco isn't designed for Optical Character Recognition (OCR). If you put this same image into An OCR-focused AI program like Image to Text Converter, you'd get:

Night Vale podcast (zioNightValeRadio A mafia guy who has really misunderstood "make it look like an accident" shouting WHOOPSIE every time he fires the gun. 1:06 PM • 2023-02-10 • 72.4K Views 3,487 Likes 776 Retweets 27 Quotes

Still not perfect, but defintely better than "a man is playing a game on the Nintendo Wii."

But what about art? How do these types of things fair with describing art? Since I'm not 100% clear on what (if any) information about the input images are put into a data set for AI to learn from, I did not want to put just any art in here. And if you play with any of these programs, I strongly encourage you not to put anything in there you don't have explicit permission to use for this.

I got specific permission from @animunerdery to use their drawing of Vinsmoke Sanji for some AI tests:

I decide to try a few different models too.

clip_prefix_caption (using coco model): A man wearing a tie and a shirt.

Blip: Caption: a black and white drawing of a man wearing a tie

CLIP Interrogator (using ViT-L model): a man in a shirt and tie smoking a cigarette, sanji, fanart ”, short silver hair, boring, lanky, zero - hour, coal, alp

I should note that the last one, while much more detailed, took a lot longer to generate than the other two.

This is by no means exhaustive. If you take a look at the post this image came from, you will find some even more detailed image-to-text AI outputs.

And this isn't even counting image-to-text AI in less open-source projects. Microsoft Word, for example, generates alt text for almost every image you put in a Word document, assuming you're using the current version. The Accessibility Checker will prompt you to check these though, because their accuracy is iffy at best, especially with images that are very far from what was probably in the data sets Microsoft trained its AI on. You can also contribute to that training data set if you want, because Microsoft gives you the option to "donate" any manually-created alt text you add to an image in your document to their database to improve accuracy. It's a case-by-case opt in though, don't worry.

Some screen readers have built-in image-to-text AI as well. For example, sometimes after reading the alt text on an image (be it properly written alt text or the default word "photo" on every image on a Tumblr post without user-added alt text), the VoiceOver (iOS) screen reader will read an additional description it makes using its text-to-image AI. I can't always get it to do this consistently, but after playing around a bit with a version of the Vinsmoke Sanji image that did not have anything but the default "photo" alt text, I got it to give me this:

Adult. Clothing. Illustrations. One.

Not the most helpful. But this technology is still pretty young, and I think it has a lot of potential if used correctly.

[raptorsaurusmelain]

Let me show you... Youtube - chapter 22

I'M BACK BABY !! I won't do a chapter a day since my imagination is less wild than before, so I think between 2-3 chapters per week would be healthy.

Warning : no proof reading, English is not my mother tongue.

Trigger warning : once sentence speak about unaliving themselves.

If you are interested in reading this fic, the tag "#twst lmsyy" will give you all the chapters.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Victoria finished her breakfast easily in 5min. The man was impressed. “You were this hungry ?”

Victoria scratched her cheek. “I have the tendency to eat fast what I love. I try to slow down when it is noon, to not be bloated while working.”

Crewel nodded. “Do you want to cruise around ? Unless you know what you want ?”

Victoria answered quite fast. “No, I have no idea. Is there some exposition of stuff like that ? I would love to see everything if I can, but it is not possible I think.”

The man laughed. “It is too big to see everything and the match, but there are some exposition. You have photography, art and craft, board games…The choice is yours too make.”

She was hyped. “So many interesting things… Let’s go to art and craft then. I am wondering what an all boy school has to offer.”

Crewel gasped. “Are you saying that men can’t be creative ? In front of me, a fashion designer ?” He teased her. 

Victoria laughed and wheezed. “Oh I am sorry mister successful. But I like to think you are the exception of this world !”

The man’s cheeks reddened a little. “Thanks…”

Victoria smiled, not understanding why he became pink. “? You’re welcome.”

They went to the art and craft exposition and Victoria was impressed by the quality of the goods. They were a particular painting that she liked. It was titled “Paranoia” and represented the silhouette of a man, in a fetal position, in the midst of a violent whirlwind of red and blue with white and black writings on it.

Crewel only saw something violent, but she recognized herself when she had an episode. Alone in the world against her violent brain, lying to her. It could go from the simple noise to the impression that someone wanted to unalive her… Having such a brain was hard.

Crewel had the time to do the round of all the exposition but she was still admiring the painting. He interrupted her. “Are you alright ?”

She answered simply. “I want to buy this painting if I can.”

She went to ask one of the person in charge. “I am sorry, I would like to know if this painting is up for sale ?”

The student nearly choked on his drink. “You… Want to buy this painting ? The paranoia one ? Really ?”

Victoria nodded. “Yeah, I like it very much. It is a powerful painting.”

The poor teenager didn’t know what to answer. “Erm, I can contact him to know if he wishes to sell it… Can I have your number to text you his answer ?”

The woman smiled. “Perfect. It is X61…”

When she finished, Crewel asked. “What do you see in this portrait that interests you so much ?”

Victoria smiled. “The accuracy of this feeling.”

Crewel was shocked by her answer. “Do you know someone with paranoia ?”

Victoria looked into his eyes, with all the confidence in the world. “Me.”

The man was flabbergasted. “Wh-What ? What do you mean ?”

The woman only smiled. “Let’s go.”

They approached the stadium, with Crewel mind full of questions. What did she mean by that ? Ok, everyone had a little paranoia crisis once in his life, but to the point of buying a painting of it ? Maybe she was… Sick ?

Before Crewel could have guessed more, a commotion happened.

A large crowd movement happened, nearly pulling Victoria out of grasp. Thanks to his quick reflexes, he pulled her close. Once the crowd went away, Crewel looked at Victoria, worried. “Is everything alright ? You’re not hurt ?”

Victoria, shocked by the sudden commotion, only stuttered. “N-No, I… I’m okay. W-What happened to all those people ?”

Crewel looked into her eyes. She seemed to focus back on him. She became red. She whispered. “Wow, you’re beautiful.”

Crewel seemed to come back to his senses. Their bodies were close. Like, closer would mean fusion. He also became red. They both let go of the other. “I’m sorry, the crowd…”

She answered awkwardly. “Y-Yeah, I understand.”

Once they were calmer, she looked at the stadium. “I don’t know why but I have a very bad feeling… Like something really bad is going to happen during this Magift tournament…” [I mean, Leona is supposed to overblot now.]

He shrugged. “Well you know boys, they are rowdy, it is normal for accidents to happen.”

She felt sick in her stomach. It was like her guts sinked in the ground. She whispered. “My babies… Buddha, please protect them.”

Crewel squeezed her hand. “Are you alright ? Do you want to go to the infirmary ?”

She squeezed his hand back. “I just need to sit a little with juice… I feel faint.”

They sat near the stadium. Noise from an argument between multiple people could be heard. Victoria tried to focus on her juice, it was hard. Hard because a battle of the century was happening near them and no one knew it except her. It was hard to pretend to not know what was happening when you perfectly KNEW what was happening.

The headmage passed in front of them, running. Crewel frowned. “I don’t like what is happening… If you feel well, we should follow him.”

Victoria threw her empty cup in the trash can. She was full of determination. “Let’s go.”

They entered the stadium. The air was full of dust. It was pure havoc. The students were all send flying at various places in the stadium, but Leona was back to normal. Victoria sighed. That was the end…

She ran to the first year. “Everyone is ok ? Does someone need to go to the infirmary ?”

Yuu got up first and ran to hug the woman. “V-Victoria, I was scared !!”

She hugged them back. “I am here baby, I am here. I can bite them for you if you want.”

There was a blank and everyone looked at her flabbergasted. Ace was the one to voice what everyone thought. “What ? You want to bite Leona ?”

Victoria looked at him deadpan. “Why not ? Is there a law protecting him ?”

Ace short circuited. “YOU’RE IMPOSSIBLE !!!!”

Once everyone was feeling better, the match took place. Victoria harassed Crowley to be in the front row in the VIP lounge so she could film everything. Before the match, when every player was taking place in the field, she did THE mom thing. She waved. “Griiim ! Yuuuu !! Mom is proud of you !!! Look at the camera !”

That made Yuu burst out laughing and waved back to Victoria. Grim waved a bit, embarrassed by the “mom energy” coming from the older woman.

The match played out in front of her camera. She zoomed, unzoomed,... Thanks to the Great Seven her phone had a lot of options in that area. It may have cost a month's salary but it was an efficient phone. -No it wasn’t an Apple one ;)-

She was overjoyed. They looked so cool !!

She heard a whisper. “I… Hate… You.”

Tag : @boba-tea-fish @hipsterteller

[lukosei]

I love your human puss in boots! what did you search for the fashion?

(IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO REPLY TO THIS :’’’’D my inbox always slips my mind omfg it’s so bad)

Thank you so much, and I’m so glad you asked!! The research portion was strenuous lol I even whipped out my copy of the “what people wore when” book to try and find the right silhouette. From his official design already I got some cues/insight on what I wanted to go for; I reeeeaaally wanted to get a good essence of historical accuracy down for this one (Bernadette Banner influence) Even though the film doesn’t really indicate EXACTLY when it takes place (cause let’s be real there’s such a variety of characters with different period clothing you can’t just pinpoint definitively), I just opted for the one that appealed to me most.

From his hat I primarily took inspo from mid 16th-17th century tercios and Spanish baroque clothing to establish the sorta vibe of the overall fit—the sleeves really excited me and were fun to draw lolol. Spanish musketeers were a big point of interest too! I remember finding this awesome photo of this model of one from 1604, and then also a few illustrations of captain Alatriste, and paintings by Andrey Shishkin (duelist, kavler, musketeer and pirate to be exact!) I had pulled up as well to guide me along.

Something I was initially worried about at first through going the route of the more elaborate “overcoat” situation overtop the poet shirt was whether it was too ‘‘‘refined’’’ for his character/personality as opposed to just having the white shirt, which also obviously works super well, but in reality it’s not so much of a status thing as opposed to more of a style statement this time haha. And mans for sure has an eye for appearance. One of my friends said if people ripped on him for it he’d just argue that it was cool (which I thought definitely checked out behaviour-wise), also he could literally just take it off and be left with the sole blouse variation if need be 😩 That’s basically the gist of it!

[recurring-polynya]

i am devouring EVERY WORD of these deleted scenes is there anything more we can see from a little in love????

Sure, why not? This is the last one, though, don't wanna give *too* much away.

“Well, what they do in the World of the Living,” Rukia explained, “when they want to have a traditional wedding, they just add the western dress as another outfit change. Sometimes even two outfit changes, a wedding dress, and then a ‘cocktail dress’.” She had first encountered these beautiful gowns in a romance manga Orihime had loaned her. Orihime was a great fan of fancy dresses and she had been happy to give Rukia a primer on various styles and the customs associated with them over the course of numerous school lunch breaks.

Hisana laughed gently. “You want extra outfit changes?”

Rukia felt her face go warm. “I didn’t say I wanted it! I was just thinking about it!”

“What does the groom do in these circumstances?” Koshino asked. “Does he also change into Western clothing? The tight pants?”

“I think it’s optional, but he certainly could,” Rukia shrugged. 

Koshino ran one finger over his mustache thoughtfully. “A montsuki is classic. It is impossible to look bad in one. The Western suit is less forgiving. Lord Kuchiki, of course, could pull it off easily. The man can wear anything.”

“And how!” Hisana sighed dreamily. 

“Excuse me, Lady Rukia?”

All three of them looked up to see one of the footmen standing in the doorway. 

Yes, Saejima?” Rukia perked up, already having a suspicion why he was here.

“Lord Kuchiki and Lieutenant Abarai have concluded their business. Lord Kuchiki asked me to,” Saejima cleared his throat slightly, “deliver Lieutenant Abarai into your custody until dinnertime.”

Finally! “Wonderful! Thank you, Saejima!” Rukia set her teacup back on the tray and started to get up.

“Oh, oh, wait!” Hisana broke in. “Send him in, Saejima! I want him to meet Mr. Koshino.”

“Sister, no,” Rukia murmured. If pressed, Rukia would have to admit that she didn’t hate talking high fashion nearly as much as she pretended to, but poor Renji certainly didn’t want to sit through a discussion about which sleeve length would be most flattering to his body shape.

It was too late, though. Renji’s curious face appeared in the doorway. “Er, good afternoon, Lady Hisana,” he said. His gaze fell on Rukia, and despite herself, her heart sped up. “Lady Rukia.”

“There he is!” Hisana trilled, waving a hand. “Come in, Lieutenant, would you like some tea?”

“Er, I’m good, thank you.”

“Lieutenant Abarai, this is Koshino Syuuga, the most exclusive clothing designer in Soul Society. Mr. Koshino, this is Abarai Renji, my husband’s adjutant and Rukia’s beau.”

“Nice to meet you!” Renji said cheerfully, making a little bow.

Koshino’s eyes scanned over Renji, probably estimating his measurements to pinpoint accuracy. “This is him?” he demanded. “The bridegroom?”

Renji’s face abruptly turned purple.

“Shh, shh! It’s not official yet!” Hisana one hand. “But yes.”

“I have changed my mind!” Koshino declared, throwing one hand into the air. “You shall have your Western wedding outfits, Lady Rukia! This is new to me, but I shall begin researching immediately!”

“I didn’t actually ask for it,” Rukia pointed out, standing up and edging towards the door.

Koshino was on a tear now. “No one told me about this man and his beautiful hair! Rukia, you will wear the scarlet iro-uchikake! What a pair you will make! Why did you worry me, Lady Hisana? Saying people will pooh-pooh on the wedding because it is an adoptive marriage, when the happy couple is this? Call your friend at the Bulletin and tell them to save the entire Society page! Perhaps the front cover, even!”

Renji stood rigid and pale, his entire body held still. Maybe he was hoping that Koshino’s vision was motion-based, like some Hollows. Rukia walked over and grabbed him by the wrist. “I’m taking Renji for a walk in the garden until dinner!” she announced. “Thank you for coming by, Mr. Koshino! If I can, I’ll try to get a hold of a Living World bridal magazine for you!”

“Ah, Lady Rukia, this is why you are my favorite, even among the Kuchiki, the most beautiful people in Soul Society!”

“Don’t let Brother hear you say that!” Rukia sang as she hauled Renji out of the sitting room.

[theywhodraws]

Waaaa, your Touchstarved OCs are so cool!! When I saw Muadarin speaking German, as a German speaker, I got SO excited, dfjkng- Speaking of Muadarin, her bio says that she likes brown to golden eyes, but what does she think of other eye colors? Does she dislike them or not care for them?

(Also, Emil looks so cool?? The golden tears he's got going on are really interesting to me!)

Oh, thank you!! That makes me very happy to know hehe~ I am glad you think Emil looks cool too, designing him was a ✨p a i n✨ but worth it!

.

.

As for the question— Mua doesn't really care about other eye colors and just ignore it. Especially if she's focused on talking to her brother, it won't grab her attention at all. All the better too, to be safe from her.

If she does take notice— she'd read the said person, with almost an eerie accuracy. See through their eyes the fear, worries, the possible filth/sins they did, and so on. But that's just her saying what goes through her mind- up to the person if it's the truth or not. Sometimes she won't say anything while staring at their eyes... she'd just look at the person with disgust, despise or pity. She sees through the "good guy/gal/person" act after all. No matter how convincing.

The ones she hates the most, to a point of wanting to rip it out ( or immediately rip it out ) are Yellow eyes and 'Dead' eyes! The one with barely any light/life within it. It irritates and annoys her so much.

Others more— if someone's wearing something to hide their eyes( masks, bandages, eye patch, etc.... ) she'd be curious and reach out. Which is not good. She doesn't always wear bandages after all~

[centi-pedve]

your tags are *so* so real not to bitch but that was such a reductive way of speaking about social anxiety and defending it with "i have social anxiety dumbass" did not give it any more credibility!!! like it is good to work towards developing ones social skills no matter what but being mean to mentally ill strangers is like the actual antithesis of that lmfao

You can always bitch in our dear ask box, so bitch away. We'll be bitching too. Credibility via experience only means something when you can defend your point normally. You can have a PhD in psychology but if you speak that way then your credibility amounts to nothing.

We understand frustrations with feeling like people are against recovery, or apathetic, or anything of the sort... but trying to force people to get better or making them feel guilty, idiotic, or otherwise shamefully for not employing certain self-help mechanisms/initially resisting those mechanisms (because change is scary, and humans are naturally going to resist it, no way around that) is the quickest way to get people to not want to do what you're suggesting. Under the assumption that what you're suggesting is medically sound.

And if you want to work on your social skills, here's a website. It was designed for people with Asperger's/ASD, but should work as a general resource. As of now we cannot vouch on the accuracy or tactfulness of everything but it does contain information that can be useful to keep in mind for beginners.

(Since a lot of people like to talk about how important it is to do something, but give no pointers as to where or how to start doing that thing.)

There's a common trend in reducing social anxiety (or any other anxiety disorder) to something that can just be managed if you get Good Enough at socializing, or just stop worrying so much, or think it through, or whatever. Some are able to benefit from those strategies, but the current views around anxiety are blatantly harmful to those who deal with it severely, confusingly, or with comorbidities. For many, anxiety can be lifelong and life ruining, especially when they're led on to believe simple answers can solve a complex problem. We know personally that our anxiety disorder cocktail changed our life permanently and no amount of rationalizing could stop an atomic bomb of built up fear and panic dropping all at once. (Sarcasm start) But we have to make sure this disorder is approachable for the masses, and act like anxiety is just a bit of worrying you can resolve with a bit of deep breathing and confidence. It's just something you can add into your college admissions essay as something you overcame through enough perseverance, good thoughts, and skill building (Sarcasm end). And many people with anxiety disorders who have been able to help themselves carry this idea that everyone is like them and they just haven't realized it yet, which is agonizing, and reflects so overtly in certain posts, such as the one relevant to this ask, lol.

[ordinaryschmuck]

Quick Thoughts on the Series Premier of Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur

I frickin’ love this series.

I’m not even gonna dance around that fact this time. I frickin’ LOVE this series already, and we only have one episode! Well, one forty-five minute special for a premier...but that’s enough for me to know it’s going to be great.

If you know me, you know my two favorite things in the world are superheroes and animation. So a new animated series featuring superheroes is already something that’s on the top of my favorites list. Adding to the fact that it’s based on a Marvel property, AND that your boy is a big Marvel fan? Well, let’s just say that I was already looking forward to this one. And I can already say it’s worth all the hype!

Good thing too, because Marvel animation hasn’t been doing too hot since cancelling Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes (the GOAT of Marvel animation, right next to Spectacular Spider-Man). Most of their shows felt like over-glorified commercials for the Marvel Cinematic Universe, to the point where they designed the characters to look nearly identical to the actors and their costumes. I’m sure everyone tried to make them decent, but you can tell that with each show, Disney told them to trade passion for commercialism.

With Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur, within the firs MINUTE of the show, you can feel the passion that everyone involved felt with making it. Through the animation, art-style, music, humor, and the characters, I had this non-stop grin on my face. It’s hard to put into words just what makes everything about this show so spectacular on every sense it appeals to, so trust me when I say that it’s worth seeing to believe!

However, Tumblr...this is a Marvel property. It might not look or feel like it, but these characters are based on ones from Marvel Comics. I just feel like it’s worth pointing that out because this site REALLY hates Marvel for some reason. BUT don’t worry. This series is very much in its own thing. You don’t have to watch over a dozen movies or shows to get into it. You can just...watch this show on its own. Sure, they reference the Avengers, but it’s in a way to say, “Yeah, those super popular heroes that everyone knows at this point? They’re in this world. But not in THIS show.” And I like that. I like that despite being based on Marvel heroes, Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur remains in its own little circle, not even connected to the MCU in any way. It’s just...a TV show that anyone can watch.

And I do mean anyone. You don’t need to be a super-mega fan to love this show. As far as I can tell, Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur are new and/or niche characters in the Marvel line-up, and that freedom allows the writers to just...do whatever they want. I’m all for that because I know NOTHING about these characters, so I’m cool with not having to worry about comic accuracy. There’s probably some mega nerds who get as pissed off as Spider-Man fans do over the MCU’s Peter Parker, but...screw them. This show’s fun.

BUT it’s not for everyone. Yeah, I know. I said ANYONE could get into it, but that just means that ANY person has the potential to like this. EVERY person? Well, as much as I enjoy the hell out of this series, I will admit that it’s energy might be obnoxious to some people. They use this whoosh sound effect...A LOT, and it almost got as annoying as Johnny Test’s WHIP sound effect. It never reached there, but it was a gimmick that overstayed its welcome. As for how fast-paced everything acts, I didn’t mind it, but some definitely will.

Also, with this premier, I feel like the writers played a few cards too soon. I don’t want to give away how, but there are some emotional beats that should have been saved for, at least, the season finale.

But, other than that, I still frickin’ love this series. It’s a ton of fun and will be a show I’ll try to keep up with for the foreseeable future. If you haven’t checked it out yet, well, here’s the series premier free on YouTube. If you can’t watch it...get a VPN.

If you’re a fan of superheroes and animation like I am, this show will be a fun time for you as well.

[duckmine]

I've been really self conscious about my coloring abilities in digital art, can you maybe give some tips on that because your art looks amazing

of course!

some general tips i can give you with no specific order of method is: *filters, *what are complementary colors, *color picking, *hue direction on lighting and *layer blending modes to summarize what i’m covering here.

tip #1- feel free to mess around with filters. if you have a program with filters like brightness/contrast, hue/saturation, yada yada, value those tools to help you adapt better to understanding flattering coloring. sometimes you may color a piece and it feels super saturated or bright, use the filter tools to adjust it in a way that is less straining for you to look at but also still makes sense.

tip #2- practice identifying complementary colors. what colors work with red? blue, green, etc. what level of contrast/brightness should it be to help the red pop out more? these foundations will help you decide necessary colors for your palette, but try to keep it simple. and dw multiple colors of the same hue (section of the color wheel, like blue) count to, but try to keep it simple.

tip #2.5- you can also just copy off an official color palette if you ever need to, it’s also just helpful for accuracy.

tip #3 for shading, the hue of the lighting will tend to vary both based on position and environment. i wouldn’t worry too much about it but some general tips are, lighting will get gradually cooler the further it is to the darkest area of the shadow.

another general trick is if you don’t know what color to use for the shadow, warm tones like crimson or maybe the color of the skin are good for general lighting like day time or such. cooler tones like sky blue are good for stuff like closer to night time or a cool-lit room, etc. but again it also really depends on what looks good and benefits you.

oh yeah, for shading layers, i tend to switch between multiply and linear burn on blend layers. it just depends how intense i want the shading to be without having to directly go to the filter tool. multiply does general shadow building but linear burn helps emphasize shadows in darker colored areas, like a dark navy blue. again it depends on whatever i need. i also tend to use the add or glow dodge or linear light whatever is the brightness and most saturated blend mode on your program for highlighting certain areas. i typically use warmer colors for this unless it’s nighttime to which i’d use like a cyan.

these are really the main basics i’ve had in my coloring routine for a years that always helped me.

i hope these aren’t to confusing or broad, i would have drawn more examples but i’m kinda tired rn ^^. if you’d also like some recommendations i suggest looking into sinix design and his quick tutorial videos. marco bucci is also really good at coloring but there are really a lot of videos so i’d recommend colour harmony - 10 minutes to better painting. you don’t really need to start digitally painting but it’s just good fundamentals to learn about as it impacts cell shading as well.

[ellies-cycling-notes]

Day 18: Van Buren State Park to Ann Arbor

Distance Covered: ~88 miles

Total Time (including rests): ~8:11 (7:44am-3:55pm)

Time spent riding: ~7:31 (Approx. 40 minutes of rest)

Average Speed: 11.7 mph

Apples Eaten: 2 (fuji - 5.5/10, fuji - 6/10)

First of all, you might notice that I did not give exact values for today's ride. This is because my phone had a malfunction on the ride, and I had to disable the app I use to record my ride, and as such, I don't have complete accuracy in what I did. The approximations given above are estimated from Google Maps, as well as personal guesses about start/end times + break lengths. I rounded down, assuming that I took shorter breaks, and the entire ride took longer.

With that out of the way, today's ride was another pretty bland one. Similar to how yesterday's ride was a straight shot West, today's was a straight shot North to Ann Arbor. It was slightly more interesting than yesterday's ride, though, due to a few unusual parts of the ride. Almost all the ride was on state/side roads again, but there was a 15 mile or so stretch on bike trails, which was rather nice. In addition, the worst part of the ride was a side road which was a rocky gravel path I had to ride on for about 5 miles. I probably could've found a way to go around it, but as I was in rural Ohio at the time, it probably would've meant having to bike off to the side 1 or 2 miles to find a better road, so I just went through with it. I was worried about getting another flat, but my worries were for naught. This makes it so that I have now gone the entire set of rides from Pittsburgh to Ann Arbor (the Ohio rides as I'll probably call them) without getting a single flat. Here's to hoping the pattern continues! (Knock on wood)

I went through quite a few road work zones on today's ride, but the cars around me were usually polite, so it wasn't too bad. The most fun one was when I was able to ignore a 2-mile detour, because I could just take the pedestrian pathway over some train tracks that was still available.

Weather was also pretty nice today. When I woke up and got started on my ride, it was in the low 50s, and even as the ride went on, the heat never really got to be too much. I did end up drinking more water than I expected, but yet again I was saved by the new small water bottle I've been carrying in my handlebar bag.

On the topic of my handlebar bag, I think I might be carrying too much in it. It uses velcro straps to stay on the front of my bike, but some of the velcro keeps slipping, and I'll sometimes have to take a stop for 30 seconds or so just to readjust it. It's never enough to be a huge problem, but it is something I always have to be aware of.

Design Notes

Going straight into design notes today, I have just one topic on hand. It might be a long one, or it might be short, in which case I'll probably have more to say about it later.

Overpowered (OP) Items

To start of, let's define what I'm referring to by "OP Items." These do not actually have to be items in games, but rather can be any game object which can belong/be assigned to a player (whether that be skills, abilities, items, or something else). With that, I have three categories of OP items in mind. Before describing them, I'll note that these three categories have a lot of overlap between them, especially categories 2 and 3:

Items that are just really strong. These are items that tend to break the balance of a game in favor of one player, or in favor of THE players in the case of a cooperative game. An example of this would be any high-level D&D equipment when given at too low a level. I will be not really discussing this type of OP item specifically much in today's notes.

Items that warp the rules. These are items that introduce new rules or reject existing ones, changing the way the game is played. They are often just situationally powerful, or give small increments of power over time. They may need you to be more strategic than those of category 1. Some examples of this include the "Fleet Logistics" and "Lightwave Deflector" Technologies in Twilight Imperium, which both allow you to take actions otherwise impossible, or the "Dead Branch" relic in Slay the Spire, which warps which cards are beneficial for you to play/have in your deck.

Build-around Items. These are items that are powerful, but only in situations were conditions are properly met. They require players to think deeply about how to maximize their potential, or they end up being rather weak. A lot of Magic: the Gathering combo/synergy cards fall into this categories, as do certain D&D spells.

Why am I suddenly discussing OP Items? I think it's partially due to my thoughts from the last couple of days, but I'm not sure exactly what lead to this train of thought. It may have been the games I've been thinking about, it may have been what I've been reading, I really don't know.

I wanted to give my design thoughts on OP Items. I tend to greatly enjoy them in games I play, especially those of category 2 & 3, as they provide great moments in gameplay when you first get them, or when you figure out the right way to use them. When they appear or are first used, it usually marks an important turning point in the game.

With that being said, I have a much harder time designing with OP Items. One of my first games, Atropos, which I designed with my brother and a friend, was focused around "Treasures," which were mostly OP items. But since then, I haven't designed many games, if any, that have OP items in the same sort of way.

I think it largely boils down to being a result of my approach to design of game mechanics, which I like to call "Spreadsheet Design." When designing, I try to organize and classify things using spreadsheets, quantifying attributes, and balancing things out as I work. OP items are harder to quantify, especially those of category 2 & 3, because how strong they are can ebb and flow. Depending on the game, you might have an upper and lower limit of what you want such items to be able to do, requiring even more restrictions that increase the tightly-wound-ness of the game.

In a competitive game, you have make sure that one player does not just win the game because they received/have a certain OP item. With that, one of the most dangerous types of OP items are those that spiral into more OP items as the game progresses. There's also the case of OP items which either are stronger the longer you have them, or have a set strength. For example, an item that gives +1 to all your attack rolls is much stronger and gets much more use if received earlier in the game, while an item that gives a one-time-use +20 to an attack roll is good any point in the game, but may not end up having the same strength if received early in the game, because you probably don't want to waste it then. This is why build-around OP items are often some of the best in a competitive game, because that means it's up to the players' strategies to determine whether an OP item actually breaks the game in their favor. At the same time, this could backfire, because if a player is going for a certain strategy, and they just happen to receive an OP item that slots into that strategy, they may run away with the game.

OP items may be easier to manager in Cooperative or solitaire games, but those still have the issue of possibly breaking the game tension that exists between the players and the game. Even those types of games are typically less fun if they become way too easy, to the point of not really needing to strategize.

In my games, I tend to not include OP items, because I'm not very adept at managing the flow of a game correctly, and adding OP items would just throw an additional wrench in that flow. And then, by the time I think I have the flow figured out, the game is too set in its design to really add OP items at that point.

I do have some ideas for games that want/should have OP items. For one, I think Characters, Inc. would do well with OP items, especially ones which warp the rules of the game, because while it's one of the games I'm most proud of, that's more from a coding perspective than a design perspective. At the moment, it's much too straightforward, so it actually kinda needs a wrench thrown in. Moreover, I have an idea for a game that kinda takes the "OP Item" idea to the extreme, being focused completely around getting items/abilities with game-breaking effects, and combining/making use of them to their optimal situation. In fact, that's something that might be able to exist in Time Loop, with the offset of OP items resulting in a higher chance of temporal instability or temporal paradoxes. But that's an idea for another day.

This is all for today. Little late posting tonight, didn't have too much to say about the ride today. I'm now resting in Ann Arbor, and on Wednesday I'll be starting my final stretch back to Chicago. Today's design notes ended up getting a little carried away from me, but I'm not gonna bother editing them, so they may be a little jumbled and I don't know how much sense they'll make. Til next time!

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