#in 'fairness' to him my 9 year old daughter was nearly as tall as me and outgrew me the next year at 10

[just-sg]

You don't even have to work at a school, either, just be around a large group of children at all. (Ofc doing that regularly will be worse, I just mean not doing that won't even necessarily save you.)

The most egregious instance I ever dealt with as someone who is 4'11", my kids' dentist was hosting a movie event where they paid for tickets and one drink/snack for all their patients 12 and under. One of the theater people came up to me and asked what I wanted. I was very confused. He was very confused that I was confused. It took like 30 seconds to realize he thought I was one of the 12 and under kids. I was 28 years old.

My fellow bitches under 5'5. Whatever the money, do not take a job working at a middle school. A fellow adult tried to put me in detention last month and would NOT give up until I showed her my badge proving Yes, The School Hired Me To Work Here. It's not meant for people our height.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Mature Rated Fics Masterlist (22)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21 /

Created: December 16th, 2023

Last Checked:------

Little Deer, Little Sun, Little Coincidence-orphan_account (ao3) Summary: Katniss is less than enthused when Prim all but forces her to spend the evening at the fair with Johanna instead of with the twins, especially when Johanna's friend-of-a-friend joins them under the Ferris wheel. That is, until she recognizes this friend-of-a-friend: Peeta Mellark, the personable boy who went away to some fancy, big-city college six years ago. Obviously there's some catching-up to do, and more than can be done on a Ferris wheel, too, but being a single mother for nearly five years has left her a bit rusty in the flirtation department.

Miles Cross-Mejhiren (ao3) Summary: ‘And they that wad their true-love win / At Miles Cross they maun bide.’ Katniss holds Peeta through a critical episode, paralleling Janet in the old Scottish ballad of Tam Lin (often told as a fairy tale in prose form). “Miles Cross” is the crossroads where Janet pulled her lover from his horse and, by holding him through his many frightening transformations, won him from the fairies. Canon oneshot, post-MJ; written for the THG Fairy Tale Fic Challenge.

Rebound Girl-Diana_Flynn (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen only goes for only one type of man. It doesn’t matter how tall he is, the color of his hair, or even his personality. What she wants is the man fresh out of a relationship. She likes being that temporary girl the guy uses to lick the wounds of his bruised heart. Too bad Peeta Mellark changes everything for her.

Refuel, Restore, Realign-JennaGill (ao3) Summary: Peeta and Katniss take a chance they missed in high school, changing life paths and testing family loyalties. “No son, it’s a family business. And blue means loyalty, family loyalty. It means obligation. It means duty. Values we Everdeens and Hawthornes hold high.” Mr. Everdeen takes a deep breath and looks me over once more. “I can see from your expression that you’re not following me son, forget the damn sign. It means my daughter will not date you. Katniss’ path is not with you.”

The Dreadful Beauty-Diana_Flynn (ao3) Summary: She watches him, the beautiful blonde boy who has become a fixture at the bar/brothel she buses tables at. He just sits there and waits, and she wishes she knew what gave him that chip on his shoulder. Mutt is her name, and no one cares to remember what her real one is, or even notice her. She doesn’t care either, as long as she makes ends meet . But her life will change when that boy with so much to hide notices her. Everlark Fanfiction Inspired by East of Eden. Takes place in World War I Era, Monterey CA.

The Mockingjay and the Mutt-Abagail_Snow (ao3) Summary: While taming a hijacked Peeta in District Thirteen, Katniss comes to understand a side of him that she had never allowed herself to see. Loosely based on Beauty and the Beast.

The Need for Speed-Peetabreadgirl (ao3) Summary: Race car driver, Peeta Mellark, is chasing his first racing title, but along the bumpy road he ends up lost, stuck in Panem Springs where he meets an enchanting, silver-eyed trophy of a different kind.

The Unexpected Message-Diana_Flynn (ao3) Summary: Years after the war has ended Katniss has a fight with Peeta, but she finds an a gift that changes her perspective.

This is Halloween-bubblegum1425 (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen has been in love with her best friend, Peeta Mellark, for nearly as long as she'd known him. They'd grown together, carrying on their yearly Halloween tradition of watching The Nightmare Before Christmas and other scary movies, but this year was going to be different. This year, Katniss is finally going to use their time together to tell Peeta how she feels…if he doesn't ruin her plans first. College Everlark. Modern AU

We will call this place our home-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: “She closed her eyes, trying to hold in the disappointing sting of being duped. This man was indeed Peeta Mellark, her husband.” An arranged married in three parts. Everlark.

[sam-not-samantha]

The Blackwoods & the Rheiders

“A train wreck dynasty of cash stacks and funny farms.”

#sltask02

 [Photos embedded, but not all characters have a faceclaim.]

The Blackwoods (Immediate)

Andrew Blackwood | Father | June 21, 1969-April 30, 2017         “Paycheck giver. Businessman. Quiet and kind, yet so apathetic.” Eliza Blackwood (née Rheider) | Mother | October 28, 1971-April 30, 2017         “Whiny bitch. Passive-aggressive. Judgmental. Tasteless. Fucking DEAD.” Samantha “Sam” Blackwood | Self | February 5, 1995         “Best fucking person you’ll ever meet.”

The Extended (And not-so-distant)

Jodi Rheider | Maternal aunt | July 1, 1975         “Anti-vaxer. Vegan. Cunt. Used to get cocktails with Kris Jenner.” Jenna Rheider | Maternal cousin | April 14, 1994         “Brainless twit. And a narc; ratted me out for doing coke only for her mom to do the rest.” Connor Rheider | Maternal cousin | November 2, 1999         “Quirky. Genius. Loves drones. Probably in charge of WikiLeaks.”

Luke Rheider | Maternal uncle | May 4, 1966         “Pretentious. Thinks old money is anything over a year. Football fan. Moron.” Charli Diamond | Maternal aunt-in-law | October 31, 1982         “Second wife. Thinks Luke’s gonna die soon, but she deserves gold. Refused the name.” Bastien Rheider | Maternal cousin | January 28, 1988         “One of the two actually cool people in this family. Sarcastic. Sick. Sweet.” Evie Rheider | Maternal first cousin, once removed | September 12, 2008         “Started sweet, is now fully demonic.”

Paul Blackwood | Paternal uncle | October 6, 1965         “Loudly republican. Loudly terrible. Horrible suits. Still calls me ‘Squirt’.” Charlotte Blackwood (née Gilfrey) | Paternal aunt-in-law | May 10, 1967        “If Ann Coulter was slightly younger and somehow slightly worse.” Kim Blackwood | Paternal cousin | August 1, 1987         “Couture PotteryBarn expert. Insufferable. Screechy. Trend-chaser.” George White | Cousin-in-law-to-be | November 7, 1980         “The manifestation of Kim’s daddy issues. Wedding date is permanently TBD.” Lisa Blackwood | Paternal cousin | April 9, 1989         “Mini-Eliza. Clothing terrorist. Should’ve been aborted.” Salvatore Stracci | Cousin-in-law-to-be | October 22, 1976        “Tall, Italian and scary. Also in a state of perpetual engagement and dissatisfaction.” Alessandro Blackwood | Paternal first cousin, once removed | May 31, 2010         “Had to hold him at a party once. He spat on me.”

Michael Blackwood | Patnernal uncle | May 1, 1967         “I legitimately don’t know if he and Paul are different people.” Natalie Blackwood (née Gainsbourg) | Paternal aunt-in-law | July 1, 1968        “Quiet, but clearly judgmental. Alopecia. Clings to Michael desperately.” Heather Blackwood | Paternal cousin | March 14, 1990         “The only sane woman. Editor at Harper’s Bazaar with Natalie. Goddess. Soul sister.”

Matthew Blackwood | Paternal uncle | Stillborn August 8, 1970

-

Dances– The Blackwoods | A Personal Essay (Written pre-parental death).

It was a dance.

It always was, no matter what. No, there was never any music. No stage. No choreography. But conversations with my mother were always an intricate samba on a tightrope.

It could begin at any moment, about anything. Simple small talk about where I went for brunch yesterday morning could turn into a bitchfest about my weight– as if being 110 was something to be ashamed of. The mere presence of an unopened, monthly bank statement could turn into a lecture about financial responsibility– as if she wasn’t surrounded by new, shiny things and maxed out AMEX cards. And, far more recently, a quick, innocent glance at the alcohol cabinet would have me sat down with some professional life coach while she watched, a vodkatini in hand.

Eliza Blackwood (born Eliza Rheider in 1971) was a bitch. An absolute bitch. A wretched, spoiled, high-strung, narcissistic, classist, borderline-anorexic, Valium-addicted, Shalimar-drenched, Kris Jenner-wannabe bitch. She was lucky she came from money, because if she wasn’t, I don’t think she’d be alive right now. I mean, I’m lucky, too, but I’m grateful for what I have.

Her parents were corporate assholes– her dad worked for Goldman Sachs, and his wife was a vapid, shrill, useless little brat not unlike her daughter. And, of course, that unloveable little bitch went and married someone who could satisfy her financial needs and not embarrass the family name– Andrew Blackwood, a New York politician from a family of Wall Street types (Some of whom also worked at Goldman Sachs, which is how the two met). On paper, they were a match made in heaven. A wealthy politician and his obnoxious jetsetter wife.

But, fortunately for me, even though I hadn’t been born quite yet, Andrew was a good, caring man. While Eliza was (and still is) ruthless, selfish and absolutely disgustingly horrible, Andrew had a heart. He cared about people. And things. Which was why he went into politics. He wanted to make a change. While his family was a bunch of wealthy Republicans, he was entirely Democratic, a fact that nearly alienated from them entirely (if only it had actually managed to keep his family out of my life) which is why I’m still in awe that he wound up with a pathetic Paris Hilton knockoff. A politician with a heart of gold wound up with a blue blood twat who measures her love in karats.

But back to her dances.

I’m not entirely sure where they come from. I mean, no matter how much you analyze someone and their family and upbringing and everything, you can’t pin point their personality traits and their behaviors. That said, I think I have a fair amount of clues as to where Eliza’s horrid personality came from.

While her relationship with her mother is mostly concealed to me, their lifestyle was no secret. Eliza always went on about how well she lived as a kid, how luxurious her house was, how high the thread count in the sheets of her crib was, and how she washed her face with caviar or something. But how she got along with her mother was never fully described. I’ve seen hints here and there– a glare across a table at a gala or whispers on the phone. But I don’t know too much. As far as I know, Eliza’s mother– Mrs. Karen Rheider– didn’t even bother to raise any of her three children. I wouldn’t have been surprised had they all been raised by a nanny while Karen went went on living as a trophy wife. But I assume that the two of them, when they did interact, got along the same way Eliza and I do– and that would make it safe to assume Eliza picked up her bitchy words, malicious intentions and passive-aggressive, condescending demeanor from her mother. The family bitchiness is hereditary.

Passive-aggressiveness is definitely a running trait in my family. I see it to an extent on my dad’s side– his brothers and him bicker endlessly, and they seem to show some slight disapproval for his opposing political stance, as if world views are trivial dinner conversation. But it pales in comparison to the Rheider family’s guilt. Aside from me, and my mother, I see it in the rest of the family.

My aunt Jodi, mother of two, is another disgusting person. Like Jenny McCarthy, she refused to vaccinate her kids because she believed it would make them autistic. Her son, Connor, has caught the flu every single year since he was six. The three (including her daughter Jenna) currently reside together at a nudist resort, where the kids were homeschooled… because they lack their immunizations. But that’s kind of besides the point– any time Jodi decides to dress up and sneak out into the world of normalcy, she misses no opportunity to make slick comments that everyone else in the family is living incorrectly. Thankfully, everyone else has mastered the art of clapback.

Eliza’s brother, Luke, and his wife, Charli (a full 16 years younger than him) are an obnoxiously pretentious couple who are all too proud of their FormDecor relationship and all too ashamed of everyone else’s. Luke has a son, Bastien, who he had with his first wife, that’s only 6 years younger than Charli. However, Bastien’s one of the few people on my mother’s side of the family that I actually enjoy. We share similar morals, and gratefulness for what we’ve been given, and spend every single family function together ripping the family apart. It’s a shame they never hear us.

Even the family elders have the same disapproving, condescending disdain for everything that my mom displays. But they’re far too silent around me to reveal anything noteworthy. The most words I’ve ever heard from my great grandmother Dorothy Cross (my mother’s mother’s mother), was scolding Jodi for her nudist colony being racially integrated, so it’s safe to say not much good was going to come from that generation. Fortunately, most of them are dead– Dorothy passed in 2011 (though her husband is still living off of a diamond-encrusted life support machine), and Eliza’s father’s parent’s are both long gone. Three out of Andrew’s four parents are deceased, his mother’s mother Clarissa Pullock (or something like that) is still alive, though I’ve never met her and probably never will– our first interaction will probably be at her funeral where I’m forced to pretend to mourn.

While Eliza’s family is dominated by a vile matriarchy, Andrew’s family has been dominated by powerful men with miniature dicks who made the Blackwood name known very much for investment banking until bank holding companies began to reign supreme, after which the family figured they would be better off in electoral politics. Andrew’s grandfather, Adam Blackwood, worked up a networth of slightly over $1 billion, and while his successors haven’t exactly been slacking, I don’t think any of them are ever going to do as well as him (but at the end of the day, if Andrew decided to have a bonfire using $100 bills as kindling, we’d recover before the fire even went out). Adam had two sons– Matthew and Bernard, and both received their jobs at Wall Street after him in a clear sign of nepotism. Bernard married a real estate agent named Elaine or Elle or something like that and had a million kids– most of which were boys. I don’t know much about them, and I don’t really care to. Matthew married some Janet something and had four kids– Paul (1965), Michael (1967), Andrew (1969), and Matthew Jr. (stillborn in 1970).

Unfortunately for this generation of men, who, unsurprisingly, continued the trend of nepotism and began work at the same place as their ancestors (save for Andrew who stayed in school, exploring his interests), none of them were able to produce any boys to continue the line. Paul was the first to reproduce– shooting out Kim and Lisa in 1987 and 1989, and as soon as the Kardashian sisters came around, they tried their hardest to be them but soon settled with just being their very close friends (and it’s safe to say I can’t stand any of them). Michael had Heather in 1990, and somehow, amidst a family of putrid, selfish monsters, she wound up a tasteful and snarky angel of hope. Like Bastien, we spend our family events together, an unholy trio of stylish black sheep.

And then finally, February 5, 1995, I came around. Eliza and Andrew had been married for about three years, and finally had me. Adam was still alive at the time and was praying for a great grandson– only to be disappointed for the fourth time. Almost as a sign of flippancy towards him, they named me Sam (well, Samantha, but I’ve grown accustomed to Sam and refuse to be called by my full first name unless I’m being charged with something). My mother made my middle name Elizabeth– because she hoped that I would follow in her footsteps. She once said naming me after her was “the biggest mistake” she ever made, which I don’t think is entirely unfair because taking after her is the last thing I ever want to do. And I’ve spent the last twenty-one years learning all of this.

People always say that blood is thicker than water, or whatever. That we’re supposed to stick with our families (over friends, or, well, anything). There’s been some mindset that family comes before all, that you honor your last name above anything and everything. I don’t believe that for one second. As if who happened to bang should determine everything about you. I despise almost all of that. And I won’t claim any of the ones that I don’t like for one second. I’ll take a tango any day. Fuck blood. And fuck the Blackwoods.

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Old And New

Pairing: Ashton Irwin/ Female OC

Requested By: N/A (inspired by @irwinkitten and this blurb)

Word Count: 2,157

Summary: Ashton runs into an old hookup a few years after. 

Lights flashing in her eyes, music thumping in her ears, and alcohol flowing through her. That was exactly how Amber Austin spent most of her weekend nights. She'd just turned 21, and was out to make the most of it. Tonight had started just like any other. She got together with a few girls from work, got dolled up, and hit the town.

She was a few drink deep, and had a little over an hour until the bar closed when she saw him. He was tall, but not too tall. Blond hair with a single, perfectly placed curl falling over his forehead. His leather jacket looked almost too cool as it sat over his barely half buttoned red shirt. She watched as he excused himself from his group of friends. Draining her drink and setting the empty glass on the bar in front of her, she waited. She knew he was coming over to her, probably some stupid line on his lips. She also knew that whatever that line was, it would definitely work. It was late and she was ready for a good time.

“Hello,” He said, leaning on his elbows next to her. She turned slightly, smiling up to him. “What are ya drinkin’, gorgeous?”

“Whiskey neat.”

She didn't miss the slight raise of his brows as he put two fingers up, catching the bartender's attention. He motioned silently, ordering their drinks. Amber offered the bartender the slight smile as he set their glasses in front of them. She was here enough that even he knew exactly what this was leading too.

“So,” He started, lifting his glass to his lips. “What's got you drinking whiskey alone tonight?”

Amber shrugged before taking a sip of her own drink. “Nobody to drink it with.”

“Fair enough,” He chuckled. “Mind if I change that?”

“Not at all.”

He smiled as he took a seat on the bar stool next to her.

The pair finished their drinks quickly, with him ordering a second round without asking her. She liked that about him. By the time she was half finished with her second drink, Amber was starting to wonder where this was actually going. She was used to guys buying her a drink and immediately asking to take her home. But this particular guy seemed to be taking his time. He checked the time on his watch (which she couldn't help but to notice looked expensive) as he set his second empty glass on the bar.

“You live close?” He asked.

“Kinda, but my car is right outside.”

“Your car?”

Amber shrugged, wouldn't be the first time someone's hooked up in the parking lot of a bar. He wordlessly stood from his stool, pausing for just a moment before leading her to the door. She stepped around him, pulling her key from her bag as she walked to her car. She clicked a button and the tail lights of her car flashed a few rows ahead.

“Wait-” he said, grabbing her arm. “What's your name?”

“Amber.”

“Ashton.”

“Nice to meet you, can we..?” She asked, gesturing to her car. He smiled and put his hand out, motioning her forward.

Both Ashton and Amber had moved on from that night. They'd had their fun, said their goodbyes, and never looked back. The world kept turning. The sun rose and fell. The seasons changed. Life continued. For four years.

Ashton was back in Seattle, finally. He loved the city and never cared for how little time he got the spend there. But now the band was on a break and he was here for pleasure instead of business. He stepped out of a small cafe, coffee in hand as the early afternoon sun warmed his face.

He took a sip from his drink and started down the sidewalk.  He smiled to himself as the sounds of one of his favorite cities filled his ears. He spotted a small music store just ahead, and beelined for the door.

A small bell chimed over his head as he opened the door. He heard some strange sounding indie song playing over the speakers. He didn't know it, but he liked it. There was a guy and a girl laughing behind the counter. He watched her for a moment. She looked so familiar. Maybe she'd been at the meet and greet last time they were here. He was almost certain he'd never been to this shop before, since he didn't usually have time to sightsee on tour.

He stepped further into the shop. Walking slowly down the rows and rows of new and used vinyl records, he flipped through a few but couldn’t keep his mind off of the girl behind the counter. He knew her from somewhere. He heard a laugh behind him and turned just slightly toward the sound. It was coming from her. Her head was thrown back, her blond hair falling down her back as she laughed loudly to whatever her coworker had said. He liked the sound of her laugh, even if he didn’t know how he remembered her.

He continued to shop, tucking a few records under his arm as he walked through the store. He was just about to turn down another aisle when it hit him. He knew her because he’d hooked up with her the last time the band had something of a night off in Seattle. It was after a show, and they weren’t leaving until the next morning. He and the guys had decided to check out whatever nightlife Seattle had to offer. And he had met her.

He felt his face go warm as he recalled their time together. Hot and fast and nearly anonymous in the back seat of her car. He remembered how carefree she had been as she talked and drank with him. He remembered the way she had giggled as they tried to figure out the mechanics of having sex in the back seat of a compact car, clearly a learning experience for the both of them. He remembered everything about that night, other than her name. Amanda? Ashley?

“Hey,” She appeared beside him, almost making him drop his coffee as she caught him off guard. “Need help with anything?”

“Uh, no,” He smiled. Surely she had to recognize him, too.

“Okay, just let one of us know if ya change your mind.” She smiled and started to turn away.

“Wait-”

She turned back, her smile wider now. “Change your mind already?”

“No,” He answered, turning his smile to the ground for a moment. “Just, uh, you don't remember me?”

She looked at him for a moment, he could see the gears turning in her head. Before he could apologize, thinking he must have made a mistake, her eyes widened and her smile fell. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, basically.” He laughed. He didn’t miss the way her stance changed instantly. She seemed almost uncomfortable as she put on a fake smile.

“Sorry, just been a long time, huh?” She asked, an awkward laugh falling from her lips as she crossed her arms in front of her.

“Few years, yeah.”

“How’ve ya been?”

“Not bad at all, and you?”

“Good, good,” She answered, her shoulders relaxing just slightly. “Busy with work and life and stuff. You know, the usual.”

“Yeah, same here.” He took half a step closer to her, lowering his voice. “So, uh, you think we could meet up later? Maybe catch up a bit?”

“Sure,” She answered. She nodded to the cup in his hand. “Meet there tomorrow?”

“How’s 10 sound?” She nodded and started to turn away again. “Wait, so sorry, but what was your name again?”

“Amber.”

“Ashton.”

Amber smiled, her lips not parting even slightly as she turned away from him. He watched as she walked behind the counter. She touched her coworkers arm and he leaned down, his ear coming close to her lips as she whispered something to him before retreating behind a door. Ashton noticed that she didn't come out from behind that door for the entire time he was there.

The next morning, at 9:50, Ashton was already at a table outside of the small cafe from yesterday. He was a bit early, but he didn't mind the wait. He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and started to scroll through various social media.

Before he knew it, it was twenty past ten. He looked up from his phone, craning his neck as he looked up and down the street. He began to think that she'd stood him up. Maybe she forgot?

Just as he was about to stand to leave, he saw her walking up the street. She was holding the hand of a young girl. Her purple tutu didn't match the orange t-shirt or yellow sunglasses she wore, but he had to say that he liked her style. Amber smiled at him as the two got close to his table.

“Hey, sorry,” She sighed. “My sitter flaked at, like, the last possible second.”

Ashton stood, pulling her into a hug. “No worries. And who's this?” He asked, turning his attention to the little girl at her side.

“This is Charlotte, but we call her Charlie.” She knelt down, speaking softly as she brushed some dirty blond hair from Charlie's face. “You wanna say hello to Ashton?”

“Hi, Aston.” She said quietly. He chuckled to himself at her mispronunciation.

“Hello, Charlie. I like your glasses.”

“Thank you!” She said, bouncing slightly. “Mommy let me pick them out.”

“All by yourself?” He asked her. She nodded proudly. “Well, you did a wonderful job picking.”

Amber stood up straight, offering Ashton a sorry looking expression. “I know we were supposed to do coffee. But there's a park down the street and I think if I distract her with a jungle gym, we might be able to actually talk.” She took Charlie's hand again. “I mean, if you still wanted to catch up. I get it if you don't wanna hang with a three year old.”

Ashton grabbed his drink, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Definitely. Maybe I'll show you ladies how high I can swing.”

When they got to the park Amber set Charlie loose in an area for smaller children. She took off like a rocket towards the jungle gym, just like Amber had said she would.

“She's yours?” Ashton asked as they sat on a bench nearby.

“Yup,” Amber smiled. “My little monster.”

“She looks just like you.”

She smiled again, turning her attention to her daughter. Charlie was currently almost halfway across the monkey bars, her pink tennis shoes thrown to the side. “Yeah,” She agreed. “I get that a lot.”

The pair watched Charlie play for a bit while they caught up on the last four years. Ashton gushed about tours and the new album he was working on. Amber gushed about Charlie and how good she was doing in pre-school.

“I can't even imagine being a parent right now.” Ashton said with a heavy sigh. “Someday, sure. But not for a while. I don't know how you're doing it.”

“One day at a time.” She shrugged.

Before he could respond, they heard what could only be described as the worst sound ever. Charlie was lying on the ground, clutching her shoulder as she wailed loudly. Amber stood and ran to her. Unsure what to do or what help he could even offer, Ashton stayed put.

“What happened?”

“I- I-” Charlie tried to explain through sobs.

“Calm down, baby.” Amber cooed. “Take a deep breath.” Ashton watched as Amber coached her daughter through a few deep breaths. “Now, tell me what happened.”

Charlie sniffled a few times, wiped her eyes with her hands, and took one more deep breath. “I was hanging on my feet,” She paused for a few more sniffles. “And I fell.”

“What did I say would happen if you kept doing that, Charlotte Ann?”

“I will get hurt.”

“And what happened?”

“I got hurt.”

Amber helped Charlie to stand and brushed the dirt from her arms and knees. “Come on, Grace. Let's go sit down and cool off for a bit.” She said as she lead her to the bench. Charlie sat between Ashton and her mother while Amber pulled a pack of fruit gummies from her purse.

“Grace?” Ashton asked.

“Short for graceful.” Amber laughed. “This one's got a real knack for getting herself hurt. Don't ya, kid?”

“Grandma says I'm clumsy.” Charlie answered, turning to Ashton.

Ashton felt his heart drop to his stomach, which, in turn, dropped to his knees. With her sunglasses off, Ashton could finally see her eyes. Or rather, his own. Big, and beautiful bright green in the autumn sun.

He looked up to Amber, his throat drying by the moment. He knew. And she knew that he did.

“Ashton, hold on,” She said almost frantically. “I can explain everything, if you want me to.”

~~~

She’s back, hunnys!! Life has been insane recently so I haven’t been writing, like, at all. But then a few weeks ago I read Laura’s blurb and just had to keep going with it. Endless love and thanks to her for trusting me not to fuck this up. I hope you like this, and the coming chapters ♥ Thank you all for being patient with me while I’ve been away. I hope I haven’t lost my touch. 

As always, if you have any requests, or would like to be tagged in future 5sos fics please let me know!  

Tag List: @crownedbyluke @24kcalum @blue-skies-are-alright @lmao5sosimagines @therainydays4 @rosecth @thesoundsyoumake @kinglyhemmings @a-little-international @harryandthelesbians @lukescherrypie @ashotofblues @youngblood199456 @rexorangecouny @cashton-queen @tothemoonwithclifford @babylon-uncrowned @asht0ns-world @abitloudforanaccousticset @gettingjillywithit @itjustkindahappenedreally @dancingonanemptywallet @lustingforwunder @mysticalhood @5sos-are-banhanhas @cxddlyash @sweetmisseddreams2002 @myloverboyash @lazerdaize @valentinelrh @irwinkitten

[dungeons-plus-dumbasses]

Hastia - Campaign Break Down

Hastia is my oldest and first campaign I ever got into. It started at the end of 2019 and it's still going.

Hastia is a world that has been divided into two continents: Eudaemonia, which follows Durim, the Goddess of Purity, and who are basically governed by the Monastery of Durim; and Folktom, which used to follow Purim, Goddess of Defilement, but now follow Agma, the Demon God of the 9 Rings of the Inferno.

The began as a mix-matched group of nobodies recruited by party member, Alexi Malchovich, to help him get some treasure, but have since unraveled the truth of Agma and his corruption of Purim, Folktom and Eudaemonia and are on a quest to stop him.

This is one of my bigger parties, known internally as the 3/4s Party, and it consists of:

Promise Vallance / Arilista Matador (Me!): a teifling, turned human, warlock. Promise has been labeled as the glue of the party due to her compassionate connections with each member. She is the voice of reason amongst the chaos and is, without a doubt, the mom friend. Promise was born, Arilista Matador, Princess and daughter of Trag and Criella Matador, cruel tyrants over the lands who, although cruel and malicious towards their people, absolutely adored their daughter. She was raised following Agma, as most Folktomites do, but as she grew older and realized what her parents and Agma were doing to her people, she knew things had to change. She joined a rebellion known as the Resurrectors, but before she could do anything was corrupted by Agma, made to believe the rebellion was evil, and after her and ran away to Eudaemonia, powerless, where she lived in hiding for many years. She would later switch deities and species to break free from Agma's hold and become the leader that she is now, but that's a different story.

(ignore the quality of this drawing, it's old, but gets their personalities across)

Alexi Malchovich: a human fighter, ex-military Major, ex-merchant, and resident Murder-Hobo. Alexi is a money obsessed man with goals — those goals being get more money and be in power again. In all seriousness, though he has raised his fair share of tensions amoungst the party, Alexi is Promise's go-to for a second opinion. He is logical (mostly) and has his fair share of experience. He may seem gruff on the outside (due to his horrendously low charisma) but he's a bit of a softy at heart.

Gonzalez: a barbarian goliath. Gonzalez began as your typical barbarian: stupid. The man could barely say sentence and as a 9'6" tall giant, would literally break door frames as he walked straight through them. He has a soft spot for two things: Animals and Promise. Early in the campaign, the two formed a bond and now Gonzalez would do nearly anything in his power to keep her safe. As Gonzalez gained back his intelligence, we've come to learn that he was once an ancient warrior that protected the lands before they split, before he fell in battle and was healed in the fae wild. He's a bit of hoarder when it comes to pets and shiny objects, but he means well.

Quinn: a human monk who never uses their Qi points. (This is less a character thing and more the player forgetting they exist, but it's a party joke). Quinn is the heart and moral compass of the party. He is the youngest of us all, and is an orphan who was raised by the Durim Monastery in Eudaemonia. Quinn has a deep love for food and his pigeon, Reginold (who does not love him back). Quinn is learning more about the world and the people in it with every step the party makes and is finding out more about himself and his own ancestry in the process.

The party definitely has its fair share of internal conflicts, but deep down they do love and care for another and the family they've formed with the plarethra of regular NPCs that we interract with including Bilows (an artifier gnome who is Quinn's BFF and owner of the Journey airship), Nikolai Vallance (Promise's betrothed and soulmate), Asmodeus (a child the party kidnapped rescued from a neglectful home life and who now lives on the Journey), Adger (Leader of the Rebellion and current ruler of Folktom), and more, all played by our benevolent DM.

Hastia Story Time Masterlist

[timmyrx2000]

Dipper Steps Up: Chapter 4

Chapter Index: (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13)

Chapter 4

From the Journals of Dipper Pines: January 3, 2014: Well, here we are, back in Piedmont. It was nice to spend the week after Christmas in Gravity Falls with Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, Soos, and Melody.

OK, OK, and Wendy. ESPECIALLY Wendy. She's been teasing me in her texts ever since she saw that awful picture of me on Peoplebook, but a couple days ago she said she wanted to have a serious talk with me: Was I sure I wanted to play baseball? Could I handle it if we didn't do so well? If I didn't get to play much would I be upset? Was I going to focus too much on the game and not enough on school?

I told her she was talking like an adult, and she said, "Well, ya know, I'm getting' there, dude!" But we exchanged gifts (sorry, Mabel, but what we gave each other is still our secret. Yes, I know you sneak in and read this journal sometimes!), and I asked, "Are you still looking forward to us coming back next summer?" And she gave me a little shove and said, "Don't be a dork! You know I am!"

So. . . . I guess we're still just friends, but I realized again, being there with her—and I finally got the courage to tell her this—I can't turn off the way I feel about her. She thinks that's sweet. But she brushed back my hair, smiled at me, and said, "I love your birthmark." Then she leaned close and whispered, "I'm still kinda old for you, dude."

My heart beat a little faster, just because this time she said "kinda." Not "I'm too old for you. You know that," but KINDA! I know, I know, I'll hang my hope on anything. It's probably not realistic.

But maybe not totally unrealistic, because from what Wendy told us, Robbie's still tight with Tambry, and Wendy herself has no boyfriend, no serious one, anyway, and she hinted she might sort of be willing to wait for me to catch up. "Never dated a sports star," she teased me. "Might be fun to try if I got a chance. So—you guys win the pennant or you get to be like the most valuable player or whatever, and we just might go together to a dance or some junk when I see you again."

So . . . now I have to learn to dance?

I'll do it! Man, if I need to win a game single-handed, somehow I'll do that, too, and in the meantime I'll even get Mabel to teach me some dance moves—because NOW I'm motivated!

It was easy to be motivated, coming right off a week with his friends (especially the red-headed one), but the next day when school started again, Dipper didn't feel so sure of himself.

In Piedmont, January is the rainiest month of the year, and that Monday was a dismal, wet one with low, ragged gray skies and cold rain drifting down either in showers or in wind-rippled sheets. The team couldn't practice on the swamped baseball field, so they went to a gym classroom and on a big flat screen they watched video of last season's Pico Padres in action.

Just seeing the footage intimidated Dipper. The Padres all looked taller, longer of leg and arm, and more muscular than almost anyone on the Piedmont team—Chuck Taylor and Wiley Casen were the only two Panthers that looked like they'd be even close to an even footing. Coach Waylund kept identifying Padres players from last year who were still on this year's team.

Dipper could see how good they were—a couple of power hitters, some fast runners, some agile and accurate fielders. "Oh, man," someone groaned when they saw a video of one of Piedmont's games against the Padres. It ended in the fifth inning—the Padres were ahead twelve to one, and if a team led by more than ten, the game was over at the end of the fifth, rather than going to the standard-for-JV seven innings.

"We are so dead," someone else moaned, thunking his head down on the desk.

"With that attitude, you may be," Coach said as he flicked on the lights. "Start noticing their weaknesses, not their strengths! Look at their guy Manello—power hitter, but a sucker for a low inside pitch! And Grobbert—yell at him as you run the bases, and he gets confused! In the game against Pemberton, a player got caught between second and third, so he rushed Pemberton and screamed "Look out!" and Pemberton flinched and missed catching the throw and the runner hit third standing up. Watch for things like that!"

It would have helped if they'd had more practice time, but gallons of rain fell that month, and they got in only one day on the field per week. They got back to two or three days in February, but when Saturday, the fifteenth, rolled around, Dipper didn't feel ready—and he was afraid the team wasn't, either. In fact, he secretly hoped for rain that day, but—just their luck—the day after Valentine's dawned bright and clear.

As they suited up in the locker room, the guys talked about girlfriends and Valentines. Taylor said, "I'm out of luck there. The girl I really liked moved to freakin' Florida! How about you, Dipper? Have a date yesterday?"

Dipper was putting on his cleats. "Uh, not exactly," he said. "I video-chatted with this girl I like a lot, but—not the same."

"She from around here?" Chuck asked.

"No. Remember Mabel told you we spend summers in Gravity Falls, up in Oregon? I met her there."

"Bummer. Gravity Falls. Weird name. Yeah, Mabel talks about it a lot, and, something funny, I happened to mention the place at dinner one night. Guess what? My great-great-something-granddad on my mother's side lived in that crazy town, like, more than a hundred and fifty years ago! In fact, Mom says he founded it."

Oh, no. No, it can't be.

"He had a weird name, too," Chuck went on, not noticing that Dipper had frozen in position with only one shoe on. "Nicholas Northwest? Something like that."

"Nathaniel?" Dipper asked.

"Yeah, that's it! One of his daughters moved to California and became my mom's great-great grandmother, I think. I mean, Mom doesn't even know for sure, but something like that. Anyhow, the Northwests supposedly got rich, but I guess they didn't want to have anything to do with us poor relations. The Gravity Falls Northwests still around?"

"I think so. That's a wild coincidence," Dipper said numbly, wondering why his mystery sense was tingling.

For a while he didn't have time to worry about it. When they went out to warm up, he saw Mabel. In a short blue skirt, a white top with the Panthers logo on it in gold and blue, knee-high white-and-blue socks, white sneakers, and—not one, but two pony tails, one on each side of her head, tied with blue-and-white ribbons. And pompons. There had to be pompons. One big, fluffy, and gold, and the other one big, fluffy, and blue. And Mabel was doing high kicks, somersaults, even splits.

The bleachers looked about half full of laughing spectators. Chuck whistled. "Man! I know this is the home field and all, but we never drew a crowd this big last year!" He slapped Dipper's shoulder. "Your sis is OK, dude! I think she'll bring us good luck!"

As the game started, Dipper warmed the bench and hoped that if they really were in for some luck, it would start soon.

But it didn't, not right away. Piedmont won the coin toss, and Chuck decided they'd take the field in the top of the first, so the guys who were playing trotted out to their positions. Dipper hunkered down on the bench, his glove in his lap, and tried not to hear Mabel shrieking, "Padres, Padres, gonna flop! Panthers, Panthers, we're the top! Gimme a Panther roar, people!" What she got was mostly a sustained laugh and some scattered cheers, but that didn't even slow her down.

Dipper glanced sideways and saw that Coach was grinning down at him. Dipper knew he must look sheepish.

But Coach just shrugged and said, "Don't worry, Pines. Mabel's brought in a crowd. Nice to have some spectators!"

Chuck's arm was in good shape. He struck out the first batter with four pitches—two strikes, a ball, and then a strike—and the next man in the batter's box popped out on his first pitch, the shortstop taking two quick steps to field the little looper. Then, seeming to gain confidence, Chuck fanned the next man, the big hitter Ricky Manello—though Manello protested the last low inside pitch, which he claimed missed the strike zone by an inch. The umpire politely disagreed, suggesting if Manello thought a pitch was too low, he probably shouldn't swing at it, and the Padres took the field.

At first it looked as if the bottom half would fly by just like the top: Mike Monohan took a good cut at a fast pitch and launched a pretty fair line drive, but the Padres shortstop, already tall, made a leap and snagged it. One out. Then Petey DeFoy, who had started out nearly as bad as Dipper at the plate but who had been hard at work on his batting all fall, took two strikes and two balls, but to the crowd's excitement, on the next pitch he made a solid connection. The left fielder misjudged it, it flew over the tip of his glove by a couple of inches, and by the time he'd scrambled around to grab the ball and fire it in, Petey was sliding into second, and Mabel was going nuts, like an AAA-cell battery-operated toy that had accidentally been plugged directly into a wall socket.

Chuck stepped up. The pitcher shook off a couple of suggestions from the catcher and pitched an outside ball. Then another. It looked as if he meant to walk Chuck, but then the pitcher threw one that would have just clipped the outside edge of the strike zone if Chuck hadn't swung on it and sent it past the first baseman and skipping along the first-base line. He made it to first while the right fielder fielded it and threw to second for the relay to home, holding Petey at third.

Now the bench guys all leaned forward, chanting, "Go! Go! Go!"

Jayden Dufresne, like Dipper a freshman, was a muscular, above-average cleanup man, and Mabel chanted, "One, two, one-two-three! Hit a homer now, JD!"

He grinned at her and gave her a salute before stepping into the box. The pitcher looked grumpy as he went into a windup. He drilled in an excellent fastball—and JD, the heavy hitter, bunted!

That was all Petey needed. He slid into home plate, though the catcher, a fraction of a second too late to tag him, turned and fired the ball to first, just barely putting J.D. out. And then, unfortunately David Barbour—"Barb"—struck out after two strikes, two balls, and two fouls.

The second inning was fast and scoreless for both teams. Dipper kept looking back at the scoreboard, as if the Panthers' 1 would suddenly evaporate. He began to hope that he might have a chance on the field this game. It was early in the season, they were ahead—well, just barely ahead—and maybe things would fall right for him.

And they did in the next inning. Coach looked thoughtful as the Padres' seventh and eighth batters both reached base on singles. He signaled Chuck to call for a change and said, "Pines, take second. Renaldo, you're in at first. Don't get shook up just because this is your first game, guys. Remember your practice!"

Dipper took over second from X-Man, who in passing said, "Luck, Dip!" and Tom-Tom Renaldo replaced Monohan at first. Dipper got into position and tried to concentrate over Mabel's glass-shattering "Dipper! Dipper! There's no doubt! He's the man to put them out!"

He tried to gulp back some butterflies that seemed to be trying hard to flutter out of his stomach and pass up his gullet and escape from his mouth. It wasn't a hot day, but suddenly the sun seemed glaring and he felt a little dizzy. Get a grip, get a grip, be in the game.

The next batter whiffed the first pitch, took the second for a called strike, and then swung on the third, getting a piece of it—it was going to come down a few feet behind second! Dipper backpedaled, jumped, caught the ball—and it stayed in the pocket of his glove!—and was running in mid-air before his feet hit ground again. The runner on second had bolted for third, realized what happened, reversed, and made a dash back to the base—but Dipper's monster-running practice got him there a heartbeat faster, and he tagged the Padres player out—an unassisted double play!

And the crowd went crazy! Well, be fair, Mabel, mainly, went crazy. But Dipper felt a couple of feet taller. Unfortunately, the next man up blasted a double, and the runner on base scored. But Chuck bore down hard and struck the next batter out, retiring the side with the score tied 1-1.

From there, for Dipper, it was downhill. He got to bat in the bottom of the inning, but though ahead of him Bobby Adamski had reached first and Dub Wilson had made a clean hit through the gap, the base coach unwisely motioned Dub to stretch his hit to a double—and Dub wasn't as fast as Dipper. He was put out, the throw to third was in time, and suddenly the Panthers had two outs, no one on base, and it was up to Dipper.

Who clenched up. A good pitch went right past him. He swung uselessly at one outside the strike zone. And he broke too soon and went down swinging on the third pitch, which, to be fair, he should have hit.

He took the field again, feeling, as Grunkle Stan might say, like ten cents worth of nothing.

The fourth inning brought a personal improvement, but unfortunately, it looked like the Padres had caught fire. They led off with a double; then the next man struck out; and then the biggest guy on the team with the unfortunate name Frank Farder hit a sweet home run, and suddenly the Padres were ahead, three to one. The next Padre got to first, and the next one after him smashed a blazing line drive to far left field. Dipper saw JD dive, catch it a foot off the ground, roll and leap to his feet, and fire it to him. He caught it—it stung like a hard-hit ball—and Dipper spun, realizing that the runner on first had overrun on his way to second but at the last moment had reversed direction. Putting on his best speed, Dipper caught him almost at first base and tagged him out.

The coach met him as he came in. "Good double play back there earlier," he said. "But Pines, throw to first when a man's running back. You're lucky you got the speed."

Dipper hung his head and admitted, "I know that was a dumb move. I got too anxious and lost track."

"You're coming along. Just remember next time."

Dipper rested in the dugout, but not for long—the next three Panthers struck out, one after the other. The Padres pitcher, Norm Chernky, was even better than Chuck, and he seemed to have hit the top of his game.

In the fifth, as if in revenge, Chuck in turn struck out three Padres in a row. And as if inspired, the other guys stood up to Chernky when they came up to bat: Stevie Prenelli, not a great hitter, got a single on a fielder's error. Kenneth Keeler, who had a good eye, then sacrificed to put Stevie on second. Mike managed a double, Petey went down swinging, and then Chuck, facing a Padres pitcher who now was getting a little tired and wild, also smacked a double, tying the score. That was great. Even better was JD's heroic homer, which pushed Piedmont to a 5-3 lead. Mabel didn't calm down even after the next batter, David Barbour, made a ground out.

Following league rules, which limited a pitcher to under 95 pitches per game, Coach retired Chuck at the top of the sixth and sent in Jon J as pitcher. After his warm-up, Jon J first pitched into a line drive, but the shortstop nabbed it for the out. The next Padres batter hit a fast grounder, and Dipper hustled to pick it up—but he glanced to first base at the wrong moment and overran it, letting it shoot through the gap, and the opposing player got a single.

Coach called for substitutions, and—not to Dipper's surprise—he was called in to the bench, while X-man took his place. "Sorry, Coach," Dipper mumbled. "That was a bad error."

"Not so bad if you learn from it," Waylund insisted. He also sent Big W in as catcher, and from that point to the end of the game, Dipper was a spectator. The Padres went down without managing to score another run, leaving it 5-3, Piedmont's favor, before they were retired. In the bottom of the sixth, the Panthers just couldn't get anything going. Two men got to base, but the others were caught out or struck out.

"If we can hold 'em," Coach muttered, "we've won a big one."

And—

Well, no need for false suspense. They did win it in the seventh. True, thanks to a double and a grounder single, the Padres got another man home and brought the score to 5-4, but between some good pitching and some better fielding, the Pico Padres were retired without managing to tie or beat Piedmont. The game ended with the score still five to four, Piedmont, and they'd squeaked out a win for their first game of the season.

And—funny thing—only when his mom and dad came down from the bleachers did Dipper even realize they'd come to the game. "We are so proud!" Mom said, beaming with joy. "You were absolutely wonderful! Everyone loved it! That was so great—Mabel!"

But Dad at least glanced at him and said in a mild voice, "Nice double-play, Dipper."

Mabel was jumping up and down in her lone-cheerleader get-up and excitedly suggesting that they should treat Chuck to an early dinner at a fancy restaurant when, behind them, a commotion broke out. Dipper turned.

One of the Piedmont men lay on his face in the grass just to the right of the third-base line, as if he'd fallen.

The number on his back was 3.

Chuck Taylor's number.

And Coach, who had hunkered over him, stood up with an expression of urgent concern and yelled as loud as he could, "Is there a doctor here?"

To be continued

Note from the Authors: This was just an idea I had but the one who really worked his magic and wrote almost all of this is none other than BillEase. He’s an amazing author who usually hangs out at fanfiction.net. Don’t pass up on a chance to check out his stuff. This guy is AMAZING. He wrote the story, I just gave the plot.

[lady-bee-holmes]

Dishonored OC Meme

He’s finally here, guys. My whale nerd. Ahh, the meme is the one made by princeofmorley (if I knew how to link the actual post, I would; you’d think after a couple years on this site, I would know how to use it)

Also, I don’t exactly have a picture of him yet, because I don’t know how I want to draw him, so... bear with me. Anywho:

Name: Arnaud Madrid

Nicknames: jokingly, The Charmer

Age: 34

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Height/Build: 6'4, broad build

Personality Description: Awkward in polite company, but relaxed pretty much anywhere else. Has a snide sense if humor. Also has a colorful array of nautical swears and metaphors, not to mention a handful of puns. Obsessed with whales and their connection to the void. Adores the folk singers in Karnaca, and will often hum "A Watery Grave" while working (and will secretly sing aloud when no one is around)

Physical Description: Tall, and fairly large build wise, broad shoulders. Perpetual tan, with some skin damage from his whaling days. Black, wavy hair that is usually disheveled, medium length beard. Bright green eyes. Multiple scars on his arms and legs from whaling accidents, and constantly bandaged fingers from carving accidents. An Eyeless tattoo on his right forearm, and a surfacing Leviathan tattoo on his back.

Character Details:

1. Introduce your OC and their backstory

Born and raised in Karnaca into a whaling family, and at age 15 he joined his own whaling crew, staying out for months at sea. Gradually, he moved up the line from deckhand to whaler, harpooning the beasts and storing them on ship. During his spare time, he would carve small charms from materials around the ship as a way to both pass time and safeguard himself. At age 27, one particularly destructive battle with a whale knocked him over board, plunging him into the ocean where he came face to face with the leviathan. After being rescued, he began to dream of the beasts swimming within the Void, and became obsessed, carving charms into their bones and trying to understand their songs.

After the ship docked back in the Campo Seta Dockyards, he quit whaling, instead focusing on his bone charm carving and becoming heavily invested with the underground parts of Karnaca, especially the Black Markets and the Cult of the Outsider. He became a member of the Cult at 29, and after the coup of the Duke (during which time he was 34) he met Amelia.

2. What's their occupation? How did they get into that profession?

He is a professional bone charm carver, who sells to sailors, whalers, and citizens alike. He also has a more underground clientele, which includes the black markets, his fellow Eyeless, and, during the time of the coup, many Brigmore Witches. He got into this occupation shortly after quitting whaling and becoming obsessed with Void Whales, believing that by carving charms from their bones, he will gain a better connection with the beasts from beyond. He also genuinely enjoys his craft, and feels that he's helping every person he sells a charm too.

3. Where in the Empire does your OC live? If Dunwall/Karnaca, what district do they live/work?

He lives in Karnaca, specifically by the Campo Seta Dockyards, near where the Addermire Station is. He works close to the dockyards themselves (where he receives heavy traffic from customers and where he has fairly close contact with the black market of the district). He occasionally makes trips up to the Cyria Gardens, especially to the Specter Club, where he has a large clientele. He also travels to the Albarca Baths, but less so, as he finds the Eyeless there to be obnoxious.

4. How do they feel about where they live? Where do they feel safe or at home? Is there a place they're afraid of or wish to avoid?

He is surprisingly comfortable where he lives, despite the presence of the Grand Guard within the area. Bloodfly infestations have gotten worse, infecting the apartment next to his, but he doesn't mind, as he spends most of his time at his shop by the docks anyways. He feels safe within the dockyard, smelling the salt air and the decay of whale flesh, as well as at the Specter Club. He tends to avoid the Addermire Station, as there have been more sightings of the Grand Guard, and he dislikes going to the Albaraca Baths

5. What social class do they belong to? How well educated are they?

Although he has fairly good business at his shop, he is still considered lower class, but he's not quite as downtrodden as some of the other dockworkers, or even the miners in the Batista district. He has a rudimentary education, as he rushed to board a ship instead of refining his intellect.

6. How do they dress for work? For everyday? Or for special occasions? Do they carry any weapons or special items?

He tends to wear very plain clothes when working, such as basic brown trousers, a stained tan button up, and suspenders. This style tends to translate into his everyday attire as well, but he'll try to find a less stained shirt if he can. For special occasions, he has a single, largely outdated suit that, again, is mostly brown and tan. He always carries a bone charm with him, namely one that lets him hear the singing of the whales and the hum of their bones. He also carries a pistol with him.

7. Who are their friends? Do they belong to any social/political factions?

Friends with the ex-Brigmore Witch and current Eyeless member, Amelia Scholdt (another OC I’m working on), and acquaintances with Mindy Blanchard, who frequents the area around his shop. He is a member of the Eyeless gang, and the main source of the cult's bone charms.

9. Are they in any relationship? If so, with whom?

None at the moment.

11. Do they have any connection to the canon characters? Friendships? Rivalries? Relatives? Brief encounters?

He once sold a bone charm to Emily Kaldwin (if chosen as the playable character in D2), without realizing it was her. Although he dislikes going there, he saw Daud frequently on his trips to the Albarca Baths. He's also had the pleasure of meeting Ivan Jacobi at the Specter Club, and almost met Shan Yun, but the singer was needed elsewhere before they could actually meet. While he's never met the Outsider in person, he has met the Void Whales in his dreams

13. What do they think of the Outsider and the Void? Of the magic and its practitioners?

He is a firm believer in the Void and the magic behind bone charms, and he believes that every Leviathan in the real world is a connection to the Void. He is obsessive when it comes to the Leviathans of the Void, more so than he is with the Outsider himself, but he would still kill to meet him, hence his occasional trips to the Specter Club and his Sanguine Infusions. While not a practitioner of magic himself, he's close friends with a Brigmore Witch and, during the coup, he did see her practice magic at times.

15. What do they think of the Overseers? Do they adhere to the Abbey or do they follow a different system of belief? If they're not devout, what do they value or prioritize in life?

Although his parents believed in the Abbey, he never aligned himself with their views, instead believing in the Void and the Outsider. Originally, it was just a casual belief, but after his experience, he became a full-believer. As such, he finds himself disliking the Abbey's clear admonishing of the Void, and he hates the Overseers with a passion.

16. How do they feel about technology and science?

As someone who worked in the whaling trade for much of his early life, he closely aligns to the use of whale oil and it's impacts on technology. This did not change much after switching trades. He finds the weaponized use of this technology disturbing, especially the Wall of Light within the Campo Seta Dockyards.

Dishonored:

1. What do they think of Empress Jessamine as a ruler? Or do they not care?

He saw Jessamine as a fair ruler for the most part, despite the troubles that occurred during her reign. However, he lived in Karnaca, and saw more direct impact of the Duke himself, rather than the Empress. He was also only 19 at the time of her assassination, and was aboard a whaling vessel at the time (about 5 weeks in to their voyage).

2. How are they affected by the rat plague?

Rats were common near the docks, and even crawled on a few ships, sometimes infecting entire crews while there were at sea. For the most part, he was lucky to avoid any major infections, but many of his old shipmates succumbed to the plague, especially those who traded directly with and ported at Dunwall.

3. Do they have an opinion about Corvo? Do they believe he's innocent or guilty?

Like with Empress, he was more so concerned with the events of Karnaca during Corvo’s “crime,” not to mention that he was also on a ship at the time. However, after hearing the news and considering it, he casually believed that Corvo was guilty.

4. If they live in Dunwall, how do they feel about the Lord Regent's government and the authoritarian City Watch?

He never lived in Dunwall, and instead only heard stories of it. He was disturbed by what he heard, but in a morbidly fascinated way

5. What is their fate in the Low Chaos Ending? What about High Chaos?

In the Low Chaos ending, he continues to sail, following the path outlined in his biography. In the High Chaos ending, he contracts the plague from one of his shipmates.

Dishonored 2:

1. Do they support Empress Emily and Lord Protector Corvo or their critics? Or do they not care? Do they believe the Crown Killer Stories?

As with Empress Jessamine, he is very impartial to Emily’s rule, although he will admit that her rule isn’t as fruitful as he would like, as too many treaties have fallen through. He does believe the Crown Killer Stories, though, especially those that place the blame on Corvo, because he thinks that a father murdering to protect his daughter’s image is plausible. Although, he also likes the ones that put the blame on Emily herself, but he doesn’t support that one nearly as much.

2. How are they affected by Delilah and Duke Abele's coup?

Once the coup took place, he noticed an immediate change in the atmosphere of Karnaca, especially in terms of the rise in the grand guard patrolling the Campo Seta Dockyards. His shop was raided three—and a half—times by the grand guard, due to “suspicious behavior,” which, in reality, referred to his mouthing off. Often times, this resulted in his shop trashed, his day’s earnings “donated” to the Duke, and a sore jaw.

3. If they live in Karnaca, how do they feel about Duke Abele's government? Are they affected by bloodfly infestations or dust storms?

He dislikes the Duke greatly, feeling that he’s no better than the thieves who break into his apartment and steal his savings, except that the Duke has the power to do so without resistance. Bloodflies have gotten especially bad in the district as well, infesting the apartment next to his. While he isn’t as disturbed by this as he should be (as his priorities aren’t the best), it does impact him, as he’s had to tread carefully walking home, and squash a few bloodflies that have found their way into his apartment.

4. If they live in Dunwall, how do they feel about Dunwall being controlled by Brigmore Witches?

He does not live in Dunwall.

5. What is their fate in Low Chaos? In High Chaos?

In the Low Chaos ending, he meets Amelia, an ex-Brigmore witch, and the two become more prominent members of the Eyeless gang, although not quite as high as Jacobi or Michaels. During Doto, he and Amelia manage to survive, and while he continues to craft charms, he loses his sense of self and, oddly, becomes more obsessed with Leviathans and their connection to the Void he has lost sight of. In the High Chaos ending, he still meets Amelia, but is killed during the events of Doto, during one of his routine visits to the Albarca Baths. Alternatively, his house becomes infested with bloodflies at the end of D2, and he’s killed by a swarm

If your character was an NPC:

1. What would the Heart say about them?

“He has heard the whale song. Once, from the dying jaws of the hanging beast, and again when his lungs ached and cold penetrated his bones. He still awakes at night to the haunting songs.”

“Sliced palms, bone beneath nail, scars the length of fingers; all for what? His mouth says coin, but his heart knows there’s something deeper in carving the bones of the mighty Leviathans.”

“He knows what his passions have caused, the damages they’ve lain. Yet, there is no remorse, for he has witnessed the Void.”

“At any point, his remaining sanity could crumble like the delicate bones he carves.”

2. Where could they be found in-game?

Either down in the Campo Seta Dockyards in his shop, nearby the black market, or within the Albarca Baths.

3. What lines would they say when idle or not on alert?

Quietly singing: “...the captain’s a bully, the crew’s full of thieves, and the liquor’s so bad I get dry heaves...”

“Maybe I don’t feel like slicing my thumb today”

“Mmm, the rotting whale meat smells especially pleasant today”

“...time for another Specter Specialty...”

4. What lines would they say when reacting to the player?

If player has bonecharms equipped: “What shoddy work. You carve the damn bones, not butcher them. No respect for the craft.”

Alternatively: “Hmm, clean lines, no chips, smooth transitions... I see you’ve got good taste in charms”

If bumped into, or if player has weapon equipped: “Easy there, mate”

“Quite the... charming... mask you’ve got there”

“You look like a woman/man in need of some luck. I’ve got just the charms for you.”

5. Would there be any rewards, consequences, or special events dependent on your character?

As a shop owner, he could sell bone charms to the player, as a neutral special event. He could also offer a quest in which the player must find certain parts for him, such as whale bones and tyvian ore. After completing the quest, the player would receive a bone charm that increases the strength of all Void powers.

Ahhh, really long post, but I hope you guys enjoy my OC!

[janakimurali]

The world of mangoes

I wrote this short story in two parts to go with the seasonal theme of mangoes for the Deccan Herald’s  School Edition   

The world of mangoes

Janaki Murali

 Part One

 ‘Wow, did you see that?’

 ‘Hmm,’ said Mili, not looking up from her phone.

 ‘I love the rich colours, yellow, gold, green and those spots of red.’

 ‘Hmm,’ said Mili again, keying in feverishly on the phone.

 Her mother sighed. ‘Mili, can you look up from your phone?’

 Nita had thought the only way to ger her daughter off the phone was to bring her out of the house. She had thought the fresh air would do her good. She had told her that she wanted to see the Mango Mela at Lalbagh and didn’t want to go alone.  

 Mili had agreed on condition that she be allowed to bring her phone with her. Nita didn’t know how else to get her out, so had nodded her agreement. Through the drive to Lalbagh and then once inside the park, Mili was constantly on the phone, playing her video game. Nita wondered how she was able to walk without falling. Mili adeptly avoided bumping into people, by weaving this way and that.  She climbed steps without looking at them.  

 Nita had often seen young people walking on busy footpaths, talking on their phone, and continuing to talk even when crossing a busy road. She had always wondered how they did it, without being runover. Looking at her daughter now, she thought the smart phone generation grew some new motor skills.    

 ‘You know Mili, why don’t you go to one of those benches and wait for me. I will go and buy the mangoes and come back for you,’ said Nita, waving her hands in front of her daughter’s face to get her attention.  

 ‘Gosh, Ma I see you, you don’t have to wave your hands,’ said Mili, without looking up from her phone. She walked to a green park bench and sat on it.

‘Careful, there might be red ants there.’

 ‘Ma, I am fine, you go get your mangoes.’  

 Nita sighed again, as she walked back to the mango stalls.

 &&&

 Mili sat on the green bench, playing her video game on her phone. She had no awareness of the people around her, or the time passing, until she felt the sun bearing down on her. Gosh it had become hot. Hadn’t it been pleasant with a light breeze blowing just a few minutes ago?

 She looked around her – the park was so full It looked like the whole of Bengaluru was at the park. When did that happen?  When she and mom had come into the park, it was still quite early and there had been only a few people going on their morning walk. There were people everywhere. Some of them were playing badminton, some ball, some were sitting on benches quietly, while some others had come in groups and were chatting and laughing.

 Of course, it was Sunday and Mom had told her Sundays were always crowded at Lalbagh. But people were out so early? Mili checked the time on her phone. What? It was already 9 in the morning and they had come to the park at 7 am or so.

 Where was mom? It couldn’t have taken her that long to buy her mangoes.  

 Mili shut her video game and shoved the phone into her backpack. She got off the bench and walked glass house. She remembered the mango mela was near it.  Wow, how beautiful the glass house looked.  She had seen it last when they had come long, long ago, as a family, with dad, mom and her brother.

 Her dad and brother were both in the US. Dad was away on a work assignment and her brother had gone off to do his post grad. And now, she was left alone with her mother. Not fair. Mom was always nagging her to do something or the other. Just like her to leave her alone on a hot bench. Where had she gotten off to?

 As Mili climbed the steps from the glass house, an overpowering aroma greeted her. Rows and rows of mango stalls lined up the path before her.  Big, small, round and oblong. Gold, green with specks of red.

 She walked down the path, absorbing the colours, the aroma - the mangoes looked so rich and inviting. The pathway curved to reveal more stalls, where they were fresh jackfruit, halwas, a variety of chips and pickles.

 So many people were at the mango stalls, picking up whole cartons, or filling up their cloth bags. She weaved through the crowds, looking for her mother. But there was no sign of her anywhere.

 Mili stopped at one of the mango stalls.  

 ‘All these are organically grown mangos. Here, try the Badami,’ said the stall owner, giving her a tiny slice of the juicy mango.  ‘There’s Raspuri, Dasheri, Kesar, Baganapalli, Mallika, Kalapad and Malgova. Then there is the king of mangoes, the Alphonso, which one would you like to buy?’  

 ‘Wow, it’s so yum – I would like to buy them all. There must be more than 100 stalls here.  Um, where do they all come from?’

 ‘We are all farmers from Ramanagara, Kolar and Chikkaballapura.’

 ‘I see…I wish I had come with Mom when she came to buy the mangoes. She would have enjoyed showing them off. I can’t find her…seem to have kinda lost her.’  

 ‘Did you call her, you must be having a mobile phone,’ said the shopkeeper.  

 ‘Of course, why didn’t I think of that.’ Mili took her phone out and rang her mom’s mobile number.

 There was no answer.  It kept ringing and ringing and ringing.  Then after a while it went dead.

 To be Continued…

The world of mangoes

Janaki Murali

Part Two

Mili was now very worried.  

She had wandered around the park, looking for her mom, but she was nowhere.  

When she reached the lake, Mili stopped to stare. She was wonderstruck by its beauty and the number of migratory birds. Some were swimming in the water and some others were resting on trees in the middle of the lake.  

‘Wow, why haven’t I seen this before,’ she whispered to herself.

‘The lake never ceases to amaze me too,’ said a girl, who was standing near her, clicking pictures of the birds with her zoom lens.    

‘Oh, I’m sorry, am I in your way?’ said Mili shyly.

‘Naah.’

‘That’s a lovely camera - do you come here often?’

‘Every weekend – I watch the seasons change and capture Lalbagh in all her moods.  Here, do you want to look at my pictures?’ she said as she scrolled through her camera.

‘Did you know the Glass House dates back to the late 18th century, so does the bandstand - the pigeon house, the deer enclosure, the Lalbagh House, the statue of Sri Chamaraja Wodeyar – each one is so rich in history. This silk cotton tree is almost two centuries old. This pine tree is 150 feet tall and then there is the 20-million-year-old fossil. The 16th century Kempegowda tower on the 3000-year old rock formation is so beautiful at dawn. Then there is the Japanese garden, the rose garden, the lotus pond and all the flowering trees. Of course, there are all these migratory birds…oh and you should see the new tree art some artists have done and the waterfall…’  

‘Wow, really wow. I didn’t know Lalbagh was so beautiful - my mom comes here for her morning walks.’

‘You don’t come with her?’  

‘Um…no, I should, right? Actually, I can’t find her, my mom, I mean. She left me on a bench and went to buy mangoes - I realised she was gone only some two hours later,’ said Mili, sheepishly. ‘I…I was playing a video game and didn’t realise the time passing.’  

‘Really now? You were playing a video game in this beautiful park and missing all this…’ said the girl waving her arm around.

‘I know, how foolish of me. Mom wanted me to enjoy the park she loves, but I have been so selfish…’

‘Aww - don’t worry, she must be around, it’s such a large park, 240 acres nearly,’ said the girl, going back to click an eagle in flight.

‘Exactly and I don’t know where to look – she could be anywhere.’

‘Tell you what, go to the guard room, they will help you find her.’

‘Thanks, I will do that,’ said Mili. ‘And thank you for showing me your photographs.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Mili almost ran to the guard room.  

‘Sir, ma’am, I can’t find my mom, she left me on a bench and went to buy mangoes some three hours ago and never came back,’ Mili said to one of the guards at the chowk.

‘What were you doing for so long on the bench – yoga, pranayama?’

‘No…No, I…I was playing a video game,’ said Mili shamefacedly.

‘What’s with you young people and video games. You are not even aware of your surroundings. Someone could have snatched your bag, your phone or worse still hurt you,’ said the lady guard.

‘I know, I know, I am so sorry.’

‘Did you ring her phone?’

‘I…I did, there’s no answer - what if she’s hurt or something. She could be lying in some corner of the park.’

‘I will go in a buggy and look for her,’ said one of the guards. ‘Do you have a picture?’

Mili showed him a picture of her mom from her phone. The guard went off in the buggy.

‘I am sure, he’ll find her,’ said the lady guard soothingly.

After what seemed like a long, long wait, the guard came back. In the buggy beside him was her mom.

‘Mom, mom, oh thank god, you’re fine, I was so worried, where did you go off. You were not answering your phone either.’

‘My phone went dead. After I bought the mangoes, I came back to the bench where you were sitting and told you I was going to the Basavanagudi gate to buy vegetables. But I don’t think you heard me. I also stopped to buy us some breakfast. When I went back to the bench, you weren’t there and I have been looking all over for you. The guard said you were at the chowk and that you were safe.’

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t listening mom. I should have come with you. I was so stupidly absorbed with my phone.’

‘That you were,’ said Nita smiling.

As Nita thanked the guards, Mili took the bags from her.

As they walked back to the car park, Mili said excitedly, ‘Mom, do you know, there are so many varieties of mangoes in the mela…and the lake, it’s so beautiful…there are ��migratory birds…lotuses in the pond…lovely ancient trees everywhere…the glass house is breath-taking…I want to come walking with you every day…I want to learn photography… I met this girl who comes every weekend to take photographs of Lalbagh…’

‘Whoa, slow down, Mili, of course you can come walking with me and also learn photography. And you can send your best pictures to Dad and your brother - they will be so proud of you.’  

‘Mom, I am so sorry. I have been so selfish. I miss them so much.’

‘I miss them too, Mili.’

‘I know. I am sorry Mom, I love you.’

‘I love you too Mili.’

Concluded