#like. i was involved in the creation of a game back in middle school that won a statewide competition!!

[houseofwolvess]

i found a little code template base thing for creating a wiki-style webpage and like. ough. i kinda wanna make a neocities site where i can make wiki pages for my ocs. that would scratch an itch in my brain that i didn't know existed

[3-2-whump]

From your ask game:

(1) share an excerpt you're proud of, and elaborate on why.

(13) which aspects of worldbuilding are your favorites? (if not applicable: which parts of the setting interest you most?)

(16) what sparked [project]? what was the original premise or jumping-off point, and do you have any records of the first notes from its creation?

Omg thank you for the ask!

Writer ask game found here

(1) I think in general I’m really proud of how It Started With A Gray Hair went, but in particular I just really love this part:

He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He did both.

Like, this is Khaled’s rock bottom here, mentally speaking, but he is voluntarily doing something he hates and he is doing it on his terms. So, to just be in the worst possible state yet be there on your own terms, to delude yourself into thinking you’re in control when when the world around and within you is falling apart -ugh, I don’t think I can express how much I enjoyed writing that!

(13) A much as I’m convinced I suck at worldbuilding and consequently don’t think I enjoy it (you know, because of the whole ‘I suck at worldbuilding’), I actually enjoy coming up with the names of the gangs and the shadowy entities that run this alternate NY-like setting. (And, to answer the other question, I think the setting that intrigues me the most is Julio’s garage, mostly because it seems like one of the safest places to be in this series.)

(16) Um, so this is gonna sound nuts, but the renewed interest in a certain true crime event during its 10th anniversary got me thinking about how to fictionally whump the person of interest. Yeah, the person who was involved in real-life events that actually impacted real people (pls don’t come at me, I know it’s fucked up) Although, if we go way back -like way, way back- I have been daydreaming about a morally conflicted master and his unfairly attractive slave boy since high school, be it in the middle of class or in the relative privacy of my room. In the initial drafts, master was what we’d call a carewhumper, and he struggled so hard to keep his vices in check, but it was only recently that I was like “hey, what if he didn’t?”

I have notes and sketches dating back to the original concepts. They are very bad lol. We all got to start somewhere though. And no, you may not see them.

[dogmadiary]

Here I Go Again (And Again And Again And Again)!

When I was in middle school, my friends (many of whom I now know were not my friends) and I (I didn’t really participate, just stood and watched some of the more rowdy crowd do so) would go outside and get ahold of one of the Gaga balls and play ball with it. Our version of playing ball was a haphazard, self-destructive ritual that involved a small horde of depressed—and often quite violent—preteens chasing around the one depressed and possibly violent preteen who possessed the ball. It was passed around, alliances being made and broken within seconds of each other, and it would last all 15 minutes of our recess. I think tackling was against the rules by default, but it certainly happened—we sat together at lunch and we played ball at recess every day but it didn’t mean we all liked each other.

I had forgotten about our impromptu ball games until I came across a passage mentioning them in Anaphora yesterday. In a scene where Martyn and Atlas are investigating a certain uncle’s mysterious disappearance, Martyn calls back to her days in middle school playing ball with Atlas and Gossamer. Their game is explained similarly to my own, minus the overpowering undercurrent of dislike and malcontent.

Martyn’s middle school is my middle school—I’ve written flashback scenes for fun that bend to its geography. Gossamer goes missing during a social in the cafeteria, like the ones we used to have. Vaughn’s classroom is the same one I took 8th grade “biology” in. I remember taking a test in the back of the room while anxiously weeping, and I remember thinking about Martyn and Atticus while trying to write my answers to calm down.

So since the very beginning, Anaphora has been an object of comfort for me. This is why I refrained from publishing it my senior year and opting for AKN instead. I was sort of resentful of this decision for a while–I lacked some passion for AKN that I had for Anaphora and The Leviathan, and I hated that I was now being forced to acknowledge the fact that it was going to be very difficult for me to part with this story and put an end to it once and for all. For the past seven years of my life, I have occupied most of my waking life trying to finish this puzzle while simultaneously spending more time simply admiring the parts I'd already put together (because it brings me some comfort knowing that I am capable of creation and such).

I sat down last night on a whim and decided to start outlining part two. It has no name right now, but it will follow my obnoxious english major theme and be named after a rhetorical device (The third one is called Epistrophe for those who don't know! Epistrophe is Anaphora at the end of a sentence, and also a fantastic sounding word). I don't know if it's the new year or the new school or the new state, but I've been ushering in change with no problem. It used to be that the longer a detail stayed the same, the more fixed it became, but my remixing is proving more fun than frightening.

What if Constantine and Gwen lived together? Makes more sense, right? And what if Rose's jacket was a letterman's jacket with her name stitched into the chest (I was at a vintage store in the mall with my mom, and we found a rack of old letterman’s jackets. I looked through every single one to see whose names I'd find, and I found my mom's as well as "Eddie," which has awoken an entirely different potential change)?

I don't know, man! Just some weeks ago I was laid up in bed for hours unable to sleep because I was like, God, there is no way that AKN is actually any good. And sure, I could go and fix that, but that would mean opening that horrible google document again, and messing up my formatting again, and manually indenting 200 pages worth of unindented paragraphs again. It made me physically ill to be frank with you.

I wish I could allow myself to really, truly love what I create. I am working on that very hard. It's not that I don't love AKN–I think there are some things I need to work on before I can get there ( And one of those things is changing the fucking dedication jfc).

Another little secret of mine is that I made a resolution with myself to be more honest this year. I have no idea if anything will come of it. I think the word "honest" is partially a stand in to mean something larger–yes, I want to be honest. That doesn't just mean "stop lying."

I will start here. Today, my brother asked me if I still write, and I said yes of course. Then he asked what this book was about, and I got very flustered and was only half able to tell him, which is usually what happens.

I hope I can sit down with my friends one day and they will have the encyclopedic knowledge of Anaphora (and The Dark Tower) and AKN that I do. I am a little afraid that that is what it takes for people to Know Me. I am sitting in my bed alone right now, but I'll take advantage of it.

Apologies for the long post. Here is an in depth (spoiler free) description of the premise of Anaphora for all those interested. Here's to a lovely and productive 2024–maybe I'll even get to tell you about the Green Unicorn someday soon :) Thanks for reading.

Anaphora follows Martyn Fowler as she returns to her hometown for the first time since she was 15 after being mysteriously contacted by the kind but aloof Alder Beckett, asking her to come work as his personal assistant. Despite the obvious strangeness of his offer, she eagerly takes the opportunity to finally return, planning to reconnect with the one person she is sure still lives in town after all these years–the mother of her three best friends, Detective Rose Bordeaux. Martyn and Rose are both shapeshifters, and Martyn finds herself in urgent need of guidance.

Her plans take a fortunate/unfortunate turn when instead, she finds Rose's two remaining children, Constantine and Guinevere, instead. Rose has been missing for a month, a frightening reminder of the fates of Constantine and Rose's twins, who both went missing as young boys in upsettingly similar ways.

After finding a strange note in the pocket of Rose's old jacket, Martyn becomes sure of who is behind not only Rose's disappearance, but her brother and son's as well–but lacks the evidence to prove it. With the help of Beckett's parrot, Evergreen, and Ollie, a strange woman who insists on helping her (as well as some other for-now unnamed parties), Martyn makes it her mission to locate Rose, and thus repair her relationship with Constantine and Gwen, which seems to be becoming more strained every day.

It should be easy for Martyn, who spent many years in the care of Rose's partner, Abraham Fowler, and who has grown tough from years of lumber work up north. There's just one, glaring issue–Martyn hasn't been able to shapeshift for years, and Rose's captors might be a little more-than-human after all.

[bubmyg]

IM SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO COMPLETELY DISAPPEAR FROM TUMBLR FOR LIKE A YEAR LMAO i got into vtubers and now with my dad coming back im gonna be EXTRA annoying to my followers HAHAFHAJSDHJ

BUT YEAHHH i’ve been doing good :D i started getting more involved in content creation like editing videos AND!!! SUPER EXCITING UPDATE!!!!!!!! IVE BEEN WORKING ON AND CO-DIRECTING A FANGAME FOR A YEAR FOR MY FAVORITE VTUBER GROUP UWEHHHHHH IVE BEEN WANTING TO MAKE A GAME SINCE I WAS IN MIDDLE SCHOOL AND NOW ITS ACTUALLY HAPPENING 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 the demo came out a couple or so weeks ago so we’re working rly hard on the final product 🥺

that’s so incredibly cool what the fuck????????? that’s so fun omg 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[knockyasocksoff2022]

Chapter One

1,363 Words

"FIRE! Fire! Fire! Everyone out of the building! There is a fire! A fire is burning! Everyone out of the building! A fire is burning! Fire! Fire!" The voice of a young boy calls. His name is Davies, and he's a mere 11 years of age, but his job is to stand about the labs and inform everyone when a fire breaks out.

He's been rather busy lately, as a scientist as controversial as he is known, was solicited to help Queen Mori's army triumph overseas. It is rumoured that he was a recluse, of all things before he took the position. He was eager for the job though, far too eager some might say.

In the middle of the rush off staff comes the 14-year-old Prince Tarou, shivering as his footman escorts him out onto the grounds, a thermometer still under his tongue. 25-year-old Yosano Akiko, the royal physician follows close behind, grumbling at having her day interrupted by the sudden commotion.

"I know who it was, it was that damn madman Motojirou, and he calls himself a doctor. Unbelievable! He could have killed all of us! He should be tried for treason for endangering the prince." She fumes, but she doesn't really intend to bring charges, already busy fretting over her favourite patient now that her anger has been voiced.  As she follows the crowd she does try to spot the scientist in question, hoping to pass along a menacing glare.

Quickly, they reach the north lawn of the Royal Research facilities (which house the royal clinic and laboratory) where they will stay while the other fire boys come and take care of the small flames. (and hope the Royal Fire Brigade doesn't have to get involved) Doctor Yosano is on any other day a big proponent of "Better safe than sorry" but now she just wishes to be back inside.

'The fire was tiny anyway, they could have just cleared his laboratory. That godforsaken looney case, this is the third time this month, has he not a single shred of sense? Or have his creations blown it all to smithereens?'

She's drawn out of her seething by a tap on the shoulder.

"Ah, there we go." She tuts as she retrieves the thermometer. The reading is no more or less than normal. "Normal, you are in as good a health as ever. Now relax, it is simple nerves for the start of your first social season. You will do fine. But do bundle up, before you really catch a chill."

He smiles, "Thanks, Doc."

"Of course, Ranpo-chan. It is my job after all."

His smile only widens at the nickname and he shakes his hands excitedly.

Boys, like girls, have their debuts in society, though, of course, things are different and they are not judged quite so harshly. Their families would announce them ready to enter society and allow them to begin attending hunts and games as adult men. Their adulthood is perceived by society to be much younger than that of women, though personally, Doctor Yosano thinks for most men it comes far, far later. This is the prince's first season in society after a life of sequestration.

Men are not expected to marry in their first season, but when they are ready it is hoped that they have matured enough that they will have their pick of the season's ladys. As for now, the prince will be able to enjoy the social season without these pressures, still with his unique mind and outlook on life, the future events are a source of anxiety.

Doctor Yosano cannot exactly relate, seeing as she has never been part of these practices herself, but she likens it to the pressures of secondary school and its social structure and tries to help that way.

~

Across the lawn, the aforementioned "damn madman" and "godforsaken looney case" stands clutching several citrus fruits, lemons to be exact.

He sees the royal physician, Doctor Yosano Akiko, glaring out at no one in particular, and laughs. 

'What's got her so upset today? The weather is lovely? Granted, I would rather be in my laboratory, I could easily have extinguished the flames myself, but, hey, what's life without a little adventure?'

"That doctor is rather uptight, don't ya think?" Motojirou asks his assistant who cowers in fear from flames that cannot possibly reach the group out here.

"Erm, I erm . . . She is, well, quite particular about things, yes but I do think it would be necessary for someone in her profession to be organised and focused. W-would it not?"

"Fair, but still, what a stone statue! She ought to loosen up, I mean, who doesn't love a little lemonade?"

"Respectfully, sir . . . I-f I may?"

"Why not? Let's hear it."

"Well, I think, sir, that she may, erm, hate you."

"Oh? Now why in the world would that be? I assure you I am most lovable!"

"Y-yes, of course, sir."

~

As they head inside, Ranpo chats excitedly about what he hopes his first season will bring, from decadent desserts to finding his favourite author, a person shrouded in great mystery.

He continues his chatter over the next week. Uninterrupted by any fires, though Yosano is not sure if she would have preferred that. She adores his enthusiasm, yes, but only wishes she had a bit more time with the small boy sitting on her lap.

'Perhaps this means he has reached the solution to his scientific quandary and will conclude his work and leave this place for good. I shall be very glad if that is indeed the case. Lord, let me be rid of him and his freaky fruits.'

Yosano smiles in encouragement as she brushes through his wild hair, getting Ranpo ready before his assistants arrive to help him dress. "It's a good thing I'm doing this now, I feel bad for the poor person who has to deal with this. You ought to brush your own hair like a big boy, you are an adult now, after all."

"Eh, maybe, but why should I when I have a most skilled doctor to do it for me.."

The two laugh at this.

"More important than hair bushing is your social season."

Yosano furrurs her bows in confusion, then with understanding, "My social- Oh, silly boy you know I do not participate in the events of teh high society."

"Usually, yes, but this season is going to be different."

"Ranpo, you know I-"

"Nonsense, it is my first season, and I want you there with me since Mama and Father cannot be. Together we will track down Lady Lenore a eat many, many sweets."

She smiles indulgently. "You of all people know that I cannot enter the season. I am not Nobel, I have not been debuted, and even if I was what purpose would it serve me?" Ranpo starts to speak, but she shushes him, "I have no time or use or patience for such decadence. And no intent to marry. So the entire thing would be a waste of everyone's time." Ranpo pouts, so she adds, "I mean, it would hardly be fair to all the other ladies if I went, now would it."

"Hmph." he huffs, popping a sweet in his mouth with a look that says he hasn't given up convincing her.

Yosano knows she will never find a husband, but that hardly matters, she is not looking for one, of course not. Why would she be when her career is all she has time for? 'It would be unfair of me to try and get a husband when I could not give them my full attention due to work. I do not ever want to feel guilty for devoting myself to doing what it is that I love.'

She cannot lie to herself much longer though, this much she admits. Whenever work is done, or she has any scrap of free time, she is lonely. She covers the feelings by helping Ranpo, but now that he has made his debut, his assistants will take over that role, and with Ranpo, her only distraction, about to enter the world, go off and find his own way, she knows she won't be able to hide it anymore.

(A/N: Yeah, I played with the regency social dynamic, deal with it. I never said this was going to be historically accurate)

Butterflies & Lemons

Yosano Akiko x Motojirou Kajii

A regency AU

[bookwyrminspiration]

I picked out classes and races for this particular campaign because: A) It's a one shot B) It's with all new players who have only ever seen D&D through Stranger Things [I have done a lot more research though] and C) Because the only possible day to do it is this Thursday. I just figured, it would be easier to introduce everyone to D&D and work quickly since we're short on time and it's a one shot. Question: Villain ideas for newbies and level ones?

Oh yeah that makes a lot of sense! Character creation can definitely be time consuming, so doing it this way makes it easier for everyone involved. I always make mine way ahead of time, and when I helped run my middle schools dnd club with my dad we spent the entire first meeting just making characters with everyone.

Though your comment does make me wonder again just how many people have gotten into dnd because of stranger things. I think it's endearing :)

But back to your question! When you say newbie villains the very first thing that pops into my head is goblins. That's partly because I've played through The Lost Mines of Phandelver with people so much, and partly because when I was a kid goblins were a lot of what my dad used as the enemies in those one shots. They're simple, have few hit points, and are intelligent enough that you can turn them into an organization or camp to take down pretty easily! They're intelligent enough to be corrupt, so you can turn them into villains that way!

However there are many other things you can use that I'm not thinking of, so I will be consulting my father one moment please.

Okay, so my dad said pretty much the same thing but with a few additions. He also thinks goblins are a good starter enemy, both for the reasons I said and because you can scale them up. Goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears are all in kinda the same "goblin" category, but provide different experiences and variety while still being related.

Another option is animals. Things like wolves or bears, though I don't know how well that would fit into the campaign you're making. They could be the focus of your fights or an enemy could have a wolf as a pet you need to fight. Either way, they're a pretty solid choice.

Something else mentioned was kobolds. They're humanoid lizards that are associated with traps, so if you wanna spring some traps on your players they could be a good pick. Then like the goblins they're also intelligent enough to build a story around their actions.

Orcs are also a pretty classic choice for the same reason goblins are. When I think of a starter game I think of goblins and orcs, so those may be worth looking into for your campaign

The main thing he advised to avoid for new players and DMs is any enemy with spells. Before you become more acquainted with different spells you'll just end up taking time to look them up and figure out how they work, so since you're under a time crunch you'll probably want to avoid that. Since you're already planning on having a mage-like character, having to work out both the mage's and the enemy's spells could be a hassle.

A final just personal note/suggestion I'd add is that if you're looking for monsters, consider either avoiding or ignoring any immunities a monster might have. In my opinion that's a more technical aspect, and if your players are trying to kill something but nothing is happening and they don't know the rules, that can be frustrating. However! You know your players better than I do and if you think they'd enjoy having to figure out how to kill creatures with immunities then feel free to disregard this!

I hope some of this helps! I don't have all the context so please pick and choose whatever of this applies to your situation, and if there's anything else I (or my dad) can help you with I'd be more than happy to do so! Your dnd asks are making me want to play again so I'm just sitting here like. buzzing with excitement for you :)

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with MustangSally

MustangSally has 33 stories at Gossamer. Even if you haven’t read it, you’ve probably heard of at least one of them, Iolokus, since it’s an X-Files fanfic classic. All her fics hit big and are well worth your time. I’ve recced some of my favorites here before, including And Dance by the Light of the Moon, All the Children are Insane, and Iolokus. Big thanks to MustangSally for doing this interview.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I could tell you but then I would have to kill you.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Yes and no. Yes, because life has moved on since the early nineties and the characters and the fans are in vastly different places now. Our current tech would make the premise of the X-Files impossible. No, because of the longevity of some of the Star Trek TOS work (there’s an archive of hard copy fanzines at the University of Iowa). Top-drawer authors started out in TOS fandom.

I’m just greatly saddened that my physical body is showing wear and tear while the fic doesn’t. Fic gets to stay smooth-skinned and muscular, captured at the peak of perfection.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

At the risk of sounding atrociously trite, I think of the friends I made.  I met some very remarkable women that I’ve been able to stay friends with online for over twenty-five years.  We may have moved to Facebook and post entirely too much about our pets and which of our body parts has sagged this week, but we’re friends.  It’s a furiously funny, feminist, and well-educated group of women with jobs in the highest levels of academia, finance, communications, and media.  I’m amused by the fact that if I have a question about how a virus replicates, I can ask a PhD I’ve been drunk with in Las Vegas.

Back in the day, I had a job that sent me traveling around major cities in the US and UK. I could post on a message board and within ten minutes there were people I could go out for dinner and drinks with. We already knew we had something we could talk about for at least a couple of hours. Additionally, most of these people were women so there was an added level of security. Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Well, it was mostly atxc and the Yahoo! groups mailing lists that spiraled out into Geocities sites and, eventually, LiveJournal. The amusing thing is that getting in on the ground floor of social media and the Internet has helped me get jobs!  When I look at a new piece of software, I think, ‘this is hella easier than uploading to Geocities.’  We had to walk uphill both ways, in the snow, on dial-up, fighting off dinosaurs with our AOL CDs while writing HTML code. What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

DO NOT FEED THE TROLLS.

The past four years in politics have basically been the ugliest online kerfuffle the world has ever seen. I survived the Shipper Wars of ’96 and I thought those were brutal, but that was NOTHING. The only way to win an argument online is to not have the argument at all. Arguing with a troll is like mudwrestling a pig: You both get filthy and only the pig is happy.

Also, READ THE FUCKING TERMS OF SERVICE.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had the most terrible straight-girl crush on Scully. I wanted to be her best friend, I wanted to BE her.  I wanted to order Chinese food and paint each other’s nails and talk about bones.  Scully and Princess Leia and I could all just hang out poolside with hot and cold running waiters and poolboys, drink margaritas, and bitch about how unfair it all was – if the stupid men would just get OUT OF THE WAY AND LET US DO OUR JOBS, the world would be so much better. What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

This question is really about Iolokus, isn’t it?  You can’t fool me. [Lilydale note: I can neither confirm nor deny the motivation for this question, but I cannot complain about the answer.]

Simply put, I was enraged. The moment it was revealed that Scully’s ova had been used in experimentation, I lost my feminist mind. It was the most obscene defilement imaginable.  Scully wasn’t nearly as angry as I was.  What I thought needed to happen was for Scully to become a fiery force of vengeance against the MEN who had done this to her.  Clearly, I was not going to get that level of satisfaction from the show, as I was imagining Kali-like carnage on a global scale. I emailed RivkaT (whom I did not know well at that point) with a proposition that we work together. Strangely enough, we didn’t meet face to face until we were well into the project, but we did talk on the phone quite a bit. The rules were simple – everyone had to be punished in truly horrific ways, and at some point, we had to see if we could write a car chase (only because that seemed impossible).  Then it basically turned into a very twisted game of chicken to see who could be the most outrageous in terms of killing people off or writing really horrific things that fit within the structure of the narrative.  I did, in the end, write the car chase, but RivkaT one-upped me by throwing in a helicopter (a FOX News helicopter, at that).  

Really, RivkaT?  A helicopter? What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? I am terribly proud of what I wrote, pleased that it brought pain and pleasure in equal amount to people, and, again, thrilled by the people I became friends with. I admit that I stopped watching the show when Scully announced her pregnancy.  I could only see a long jump over a shark tank for the rest of the series. I haven’t watched the new episodes, either.  It is complete in my mind and doesn’t need to be continued.  I wouldn’t say no to having a reunion with some of my fic friends, although we’re still chatting online like everyone does.   Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Rivka and I wrote in the Buffy fandom for a few years, but then we moved on to real adult jobs that left absolutely no time for me to write. I’m in education, and I regularly sweat blood for fear that someone is going to find my old fic. The Buffy people were fun; there was a certain *shininess* to them that I really enjoyed. The X-men authors were just batshit and delightful, and some amazing stuff came out of Marvel fandom, particularly in the Thor/Loki and Steve/Bucky subgenres. I’ve learned to appreciate a good coffee shop AU and one famous Erik/Charles fic where all the main characters are crabs. Seriously, crabs—it’s hysterical. [Lilydale note: Other Crabs Cannot Be Trusted by groovyphilia currently has almost 2,500 kudos at AO3.]

Every few years, I’ll have a student try to explain to me what fandom is and I just smirk. Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully? No. Not really. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I fell into an X-Men hole a few years back and had a great old time wallowing in the Cherik muck, and there was a flirtation with BBC Sherlock as well. Strangely enough, I became interested in A/B/O fics only because of what they were saying about the role of women in our society. The limitations on the male omegas seem absurd and then you realize those are the same limitations put on women all. the. time.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

RivkaT very nicely formatted everything and put it up on AO3. What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I will always be stupidly proud of how shocked and horrified people were by Iolokus. The truth of the matter is that Iolokus has Greek drama at its core. Scully is Medea, and the entire story is lousy with “blood on the threshing floor” and Dionysian rites. The everyday is subverted into horror, and wives and daughters will tear men limb from limb like the Maenads. Since I was ultimately disappointed with what Chris Carter did with the entire show, that approach seemed appropriate.

At a certain level, all fic is corrective fic.  Like critic Anne Jamison said, “Irritated fans produce fanfic like irritated oysters produce pearls.”  And because fic has fallen so much into women’s sphere, a pure form of correction is not just the death of the author but the MURDER, a new creation springing up from the spilled blood like Cadmus sowing dragon’s teeth.

Okay, that’s a bit much. Maybe I should just take myself back to the isle of Goth Amazons or something. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I had to write a self-evaluation and a reflection on pedagogy today. If that’s not fiction, I don’t know what the fuck is.

All my creativity is caught up in trying to pretend to be a normal middle-aged white woman so no one knows I am really a lizard.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Keep writing, keep reading, keep fighting the commercialization of narratives. As things grow more and more commodified, all our dreams and desires reduced to tchotchkes made in China, it’s a revolutionary act to separate your work from the marketplace. Be bold, take chances, turn the trope on its ear and kick it in the ass. Take everything the creators have done to make a work palatable to the unwashed masses and set it on fire.

Be subversive.

Be mean.

Have a great fucking time.

(Posted by Lilydale on March 2, 2021)

[rathayibacter]

thank you, wanted to make sure i wasn't derailing!

okay. let's talk Chuubo's.

Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine is my go-to example for games with mechanical complexity unrelated to combat, because combat's such an insignificant consideration that it's scarcely even mentioned as a possibility. Yeah, you can get into a swordfight, or battle a giant kaiju in the form of a ten-thousand-mile-long snake, but it's treated with the exact same mechanical and narrative weight as trying to cook a souffle or getting into an argument with your best friend.

Chuubo's is a game about a world rebuilding itself after the end. A war over Creation ended in the destruction of nearly all of reality, but all the lost little bits of the world have collected together in a place called Town, and life has begun to move on. most games of Chuubo's will focus on a particular group of friends, around middle school age, as they go about their everyday lives. my favorite aspect of this setup is that often PCs will be enormously powerful (the titular Chuubo, a perfectly ordinary young boy who built a machine to grant any wish out of scrap wood and bits of metal, is a perfectly valid starting character), but their power is often orthogonal to their actual goals and needs. Chuubo can make any wish come true, but that rarely helps him when he's trying to make friends, or do well in school. Natalia Koutolika can do anything perfectly, but that won't fix her frozen heart. Jasper Irinka is literally the Sun, but turns out being a sun god adds a lot of complications to being a teenager, and vice versa.

the core of the game is pretty simple, but every detail has a ton of intricacies. you have a set of stats, which represent your baseline competencies in a variety of different things, and a pool of Will that you can spend to reach beyond your usual limits. you've got some Quests that you're currently embarking on, some of which are shared with other players and some of which you're pursuing on your own. those Quests make up Arcs, which guide the broader shape of your character's narrative. you might have some Wounds and Issues to deal with, which'll stick around for a bit until they get better... or don't. and you probably have some strange powers, which you'll often use with a separate pool of Miraculous Will and which are tied to your development along a Miraculous Arc.

but okay, as an example, lets dig into one of those aspects. let's talk about Will. you start the game with 8/8 Will, and can spend it whenever you're using one of your skills to temporarily bump up its value. however, there's already two things to discuss here: first, the value of an action isn't about how successful it is, or at least not to an outside perspective. it's about how meaningful that action is to you, and how much of an effect it has on your life. if you're trying to paint like the masters, it takes a value of 6 for you to make something that'll impress a stranger, but only 1 to make something that'll satisfy you, and 3 to make something that'll impress someone you care about. you've probably also noticed by now that there's no dice involved here: you won't always know the outcomes of your actions, but you can be certain of how much you're putting into them, and what they're gonna mean to you. the second detail is that not every point of Will is spent equally. you can only ever spend will in increments of 0, 1, 2, 4, and 8, with 4 and 8 bringing with them additional costs. if you need to study for an exam tomorrow, spending 0 Will means you're not really trying, and you expect your natural talents to carry you through; spending 1 or 2 means you're putting some real effort into it; 4 means you're working yourself to the bone, really fucking up your sleep schedule and digging deep into your internal reserves; and 8 means you're throwing yourself at it so hard that the exertion might kill you.

so now you might be asking, how do i get Will back?

well.

every game's got a Genre. sometimes that Genre is stable, and its rules are unshakably true across a whole campaign. sometimes things are more in flux, and certain situations'll require different tones. you can think of them a bit like color palettes, they're not changing the fundamentals but they're a modifier on how things work. in a Pastoral campaign, based around quiet living and small interactions, you'll complete a chapter in the story of your life once a week, and refresh your Will then. a Gothic campaign, on the other hand, has timespans that're much more volatile; one chapter might span months, while the next might be a single, intense night. some genres, like Techno or the Road of Trials, cover a chapter every day, but might skip days that aren't quite as significant. Immersive Fantasy covers up to three chapters a day, as life comes at you fast.

Genres also change the XP Actions you have available, with XP being the currency you spend on Quests to progress them, and once we start talking about XP we'll be talking about Emotive XP and Quest XP, and then about Arc progression and Arc Colors and all the ways these mechanics connect and associate with each other. we haven't even talked about Miraculous Will yet, lmao. once you start delving in, the inner workings of the game can quickly surround you.

now, i want to be clear. i don't say this all to scare you off. it's actually a very approachable game, especially since the vast majority of the mechanics can be set aside and introduced only if your group is interested. i mention all this because, fundamentally, it's an elaborate and interconnected mechanical system focused exclusively on personal growth and relationships. can you get into fights with it? sure! you can write "kicking ass 5" as one of your skills on your character sheet, and then beat the hell out of whoever gets in your way. one of the advancements along the Ace Miraculous Arc lets you treat your mind and body as though you're a grizzly bear with a supercomputer for a brain, which lets you trivialize basically any hand-to-hand fight but also can make you a master weightlifter/accountant, if you'd prefer. even if you've got no interest in playing it, id highly recommend giving it a read, because it does a lot to open up the possibility space of tabletop games beyond adventurers fighting monsters in caves.

What's a good rules heavy game that isn't about fighting people?

Hmmm, this one is tough because like... due to a variety of factors combat tends to be the one place where games dedicate the most page space. Most rules heavy games tend to advertise their heaviness in terms of, like, "our combat system can model so many different types of damage."

But there is one game which I think is high crunch and whose gameplay loop isn't built purely around combat (although it does have a combat system): Burning Wheel. Burning Wheel is an interesting game because it is a relatively simple system (d6 dice pool system, 4 or higher counts as successes, the more successes the better) and then just builds a bunch of really complicated systems on top of it.

Characters develop purely via using their skills. There's like two (or three? I can't quite remember) different metagame currencies you can spend. Beyond your stats and skills your character is determined via their Beliefs, Instincts and Traits which all feed into the game's reward structure of granting you those aforementioned metagame currencies. The first detailed subsystem the game gives you is a social combat system where you pick social maneuvers and social defences like in that AD&D 1e psionic combat system and you can talk your opponent into changing their beliefs or manipulate their beliefs against them and and and

As said, the game does have a combat system, and it's exhaustively detailed too, but using it is optional and lots of combats can be resolved in simple opposed checks, and saying that Burning Wheel is about fighting people would be an unfair characterization. At its heart the thing that powers it is that system of character advancement through doing things and living according to your character's evolving beliefs, instincts and traits. Sometimes it means fighting people, but a lot of the time it can be just about trying to convince your lord not to attack the elves or something.

I almost feel it's a weird indie cousin to Rolemaster, in that both are kinda Tolkieny rules heavy fantasy RPGs, but whereas Rolemaster is very clearly a D&D while trying to be a fantasy world simulator, Burning Wheel has a very single-minded focus.

[kinglazrus]

Not Your Danny – Ch 1. Moving Day

Phic Phight | Next | FFN | AO3

Submitted by @ecto-american: After Danny’s untimely death, his family and friends turn to Dani for comfort. She was so much like him in every single way. And she never felt more like a clone. A replacement for the “real” thing.

Summary: Maddie and Jack learn a lot of things about their son after his death: his powers, his secret life as the local hero, the truth behind his accident three years ago. And his clone who is so much like their boy. When Dani gets the offer to join their home, she thinks it's too good to be true. And she just might be right.

Word count: 2761

Two weeks after Danny dies, Danielle moves into his bedroom. It's a lacklustre affair. Dani has no belongings to bring with her, except the few trinkets stuffed in the pockets of her shorts. She only owns one pair of clothes, two of you want to be technically and count her ghost form. But that's tenuous at best when you consider the circumstances of her creation, and that her clothes were created withher, not given to her. She doesn't like to think about that too much, though.

Neither of Danny's parents are home for the occasion. Dani doesn't blame them. Her face time with Maddie and Jack Fenton over the past three years equals an hour at most—hour and a half if she really pushes it. And most of that time was with an ectogun between them. If she counts the times where she hasn't been staring down a glowing green barrel, then it's probably only five minutes, maybe less. And that only happened a few days ago.

Suffice to say, Dani and the Fentons don't have a good relationship, or a relationship of any kind. So she doesn't blame them for being out of the house when their dead son's clone, who they only recently found out about, takes over his bedroom. Although take over might be too strong of a phrase.

Dani floats next to Jazz, hovering in front of Danny's open bedroom door.

"Is it... okay?" Jazz asks.

Dani drifts inside, turning her head from side to side as she looks around. She likes the blue walls, and the open brick on the outer wall is kind of cool. The bed, covered in a purple bead spread, topped with a fluffy pillow, looks softer than anything she's ever slept on. The room is nice, if a bit messy with Danny's stuff still inside. Posters decorate the wall, some about space, others from some band called Dumpty Humpy. The shelves are stuffed full of books and model spaceships. His dirty clothes lie next to an open hamper in the corner of the room.

The sight surprises Dani more than anything.

"What are you gonna do with his stuff?" she asks. "Do people usually just," she gestures toward the room, "leave it like this?"

"What? No." Jazz shakes her head and quickly wipe her hand across her eyes. "When someone dies, their family or friends eventually pack their stuff away. Not always right away, though."

"Two weeks isn't long enough?"

Jazz's breath hitches. "Don't– don't say that. It's inconsiderate."

Dani's cheeks go hot at Jazz's admonishing tone. "Oh. Sorry." She floats further into the room, if only to escape the awkward air settling between them.

If Dani didn't know any better, she would guess that Danny had just stepped outside for a second and would be back any moment. Lowering herself to the floor, Dani settles on the carpet and walks toward the desk. A controller of some kind sits on the desk chair, its cord tangled with a headset. Dani picks the controller up and turns it over in her hand. She only vaguely recognizes the X logo in the middle of it; her travels over the past couple of years haven't exactly involved a lot of gaming. Or any.

There was a small handheld system she picked up at a garage sale once. She carried it for a few months but lost it somewhere along the way.

Dani tosses the controller onto the chair and turns back to Jazz. "So, now what?"

"Well, if you're not comfortable with Danny's things still being in here, we can get some boxes and start packing. I think we have some in the basement. If you want." Jazz tacks on the last three words with a soft voice.

"No, it's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, course." It's just stuff, after all. Dani doesn't quite get it, which also means she doesn't care. If the Fentons don't want to move Danny's stuff yet, then it can stay. He was their son before he was Dani's cousin/DNA source.

"Okay. I guess I'll just... let you get settled, then. I have to work on some plans for the memorial, but Mom and Dad should be home in a couple hours. They said they wouldn't be gone long," Jazz says.

Dani nods. A few seconds of silence pass, and once it's obvious that neither of them is going to say anything more, Jazz turns and walks down the hall. Finally alone, Dani lets her ghost form fall away. The transformation rings prickle as their bright light ghosts over her skin, and when it fades, she's left in her typical shorts and hoodie. Dani rubs her arms until the prickling fades, then flops onto the bed.

Damn. It really is the softest thing she's ever lain on. And the blankets are warm. They smell like Danny, too. That's something Dani never thought she would think. She didn't even realize Danny had a smell, but it's hard to ignore now. It's not the most tangible smell. The best word Dani can find to describe it is crisp, like a cold day. She would bet her beanie that it was because of his ice powers, an ability they had never shared.

Dani shakes her head. Everything is weird enough right now. The last thing she needs to be contemplating is how Danny used to smell. It's also, like, a super creepy line of thought, yeah? Yeah.

As she stares up at the ceiling, a blur of movement catches her eye. Her gaze jumps toward it, in the corner of the bedroom closest to the door. A small brown lump clings to the ceiling. A bug, no doubt. Dani can't tell what kind, and she doesn’t care enough to find out. It's not too surprising, considering how messy Danny's room is. There's probably some old pizza hiding under his bed or something.

Dani rolls onto her side and closes her eyes. A little bug doesn't bother her, not after the places she's slept. And if the Fentons won't be home for a while, and Jazz is busy, she might as well take advantage of her new bed and the next few hours to get some shuteye. God knows she needs it.

—

Maddie feels sorry for Vlad's receptionist. She bears a striking resemblance to Maddie herself, with short auburn hair just a touch redder than Maddie's own, a curvy frame, and a sharp, pointed chin. She's even wearing blue, bless her heart. The girl is pretty, and young, and kind. Can't be too far out of high school, and hoping a job at the mayor's office will look good on her resume. Maddie hopes it pays off. The girl deserves it for putting up with Vlad daily. Working for him seems to be taking a toll on her, judging by the distressed look in her eyes when she looks up from Vlad's appointment book.

"I'm sorry, there's no appointment for you. I don't know if I can let you in," she says.

Maddie sighs. "Mr. Masters left me a message"—or several—"asking me to come in."

"I'm really sorry, but he didn't mention expecting you... oh no." The receptionist's eyes widen and she starts digging through papers on her desk. "Did I forget to write it down again? He got so upset last time."

Maddie reaches out and touches her shoulder, stopping the frantic search. "It's all right, dear. It's not your fault."

She suspected, when Vlad left numerous messages on her cellphone rather than calling the house, that something more was up. How Vlad even got her cellphone number she doesn't want to know. She will also be changing it very soon thanks to this incident.

"He's particular about his meetings," the receptionist says. "I really can't let you in."

"Just let him know I'm here, and I'll take care of the rest."

The receptionist nods. While she goes for the phone, Maddie steps away from the desk and turns back to the waiting area. It's empty besides her and the receptionist—not surprising this early on a Monday, and all the better for Maddie. She pulls her cellphone from her purse and checks the time; It's just after eight. Dani is due at Fenton Works soon, but Maddie and Jack won't be back until noon, at least. The reminder makes her wince.

Missing half of Dani's first day at home isn't ideal, but Maddie wants to get this meeting over with as fast as possible. They had other plans in the city, anyway, made before they invited Dani into their home. Better to get everything done at once.

Maddie eyes plush waiting room armchairs, wondering if there's any point in sitting down, when the receptionist calls out, "Mrs. Fenton?"

Maddie opens her mouth to answer, but her phone—still in her hand—buzzes at that moment. Jack's name stretches across the screen. "Excuse me." She steps toward the elevators on the far side of the room and turns her back to the receptionist, the closest semblance of privacy she can get, before answering her phone. "Hey, Jack. Is your meeting done already?"

"Not even close! How goes the shopping?"

"Fine so far. I forgot we didn't ask...." She tenses, feeling the receptionist's stare at her back. "We didn't ask what she might need, so I'm just grabbing the basics. Do you want me to pick something up for you? Are you waiting on the park board?"

"About that... I'm with them now, and—what day did we settle on for the memorial, again?"

Maddie shakes her head, but not out of annoyance. Jack forgetting the day hardly surprises her. He tends to forget the little details. If anything, it makes her feel grounded. The past two weeks have been a lot, to put it lightly. A lot of changes. A lot of revelations. But she can always rely on Jack to be his usual self.

"A month from today," she says.

"Thanks, baby! You're the best! See you later." The phone beeps as Jack hangs up. Maddie sighs while the corner of her lip twitches upwards. It's the closest she's come to smiling since Danny died. She holds like that for a moment, caught between the ache choking her heart and the desire for things to get better. They won't, not for a long time. She won't fool herself into thinking otherwise. But it's nice, for a moment, to pretend things might be okay.

"Leaving Jack alone with the DPR? I feel sorry for them." Vlad's slimy voice ruins the moment after the first syllable.

Maddie tenses, clutching her phone tighter, and turns to face him. "Vlad. It's bad business to ask for a meeting, then make your guest wait."

When Vlad smiles, his whitened teeth cut a bright slash across his cheeks. It's too wide, too sharp. Never reaches his eyes. Maddie remembers, long ago, when Vlad had a soft smile. He used it sparingly, doling it out to only the most deserved. She can't imagine him smiling like that now.

"Well, I don't mean to be presumptive, but when I phone a friend hoping for a visit, I expect them to stop by my house, not my work."

"Your mistake, then."

The receptionist's typing falters. Her have yet to stray from her screen, but Maddie already knows she's listening in. Vlad probably does, too.

"Natalie!" he snaps.

The receptionist jerks upright. "Yes, sir?"

Vlad rests a hand on Maddie's back and pushes her forward. She moves, if only to step out of his reach, and heads toward his office. Vlad reaches into his suit jacket as he walks. He pulls out his wallet and pinches a few random bills, tugging them out without looking. "Take a break. I'm sure you could use a coffee to perk you up."

He leans in front of Maddie to drop the bills on Natalie's desk. The contact makes Maddie grimace, and she hurries ahead into his office. When she turns, Vlad is already closing the door. The last thing Maddie sees of the waiting room is Natalie's frown as she glances at a paper cup sitting in plain view on her desk.

"Now, Maddie." Vlad turns. Rather than heading to his desk, he steps toward Maddie and touches her arm. "How are you doing?"

"You left me seven messages just so you could ask that?" Maddie brushes Vlad's hand off. In three long strides, she cuts across his office and takes one of the visitor's chairs. While the waiting room had plush armchairs, these are made of dark wood, armless, with firm leather cushions and straight backs. A deliberate choice, no doubt.

Vlad comes up beside her, his hand on the second chair. Before he can sit, Maddie swings her purse off her shoulder and drops it on the empty cushion. Vlad pauses, glances between her and the bag, but relents and takes his seat at the desk instead.

His chair sits considerably higher than Maddie's.

"I can imagine the pain you're going through right now," he says.

Maddie's fists clench. "Can you really?"

"Believe it or not, yes, I can." He pauses, giving her a chance to respond. But whatever question he wants her to ask, whatever game he wants to play, Maddie refuses to give in. She might have put up with him once, but after what he's done, he will be lucky if she willingly suffers his presence ever again after today.

She waits for Vlad to elaborate.

"I'm sure you've wondered, all this time, where Danny went whenever he disappeared for hours. Being our city's young hero explains a lot of it, yes, but to be honest, that wasn't everything." Vlad stops to take a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment. It's quite the performance. "To tell you the truth, he was often with me."

Bullshit! Maddie wants to shout, but she bites it back. Her jaw aches from how hard she clenches her teeth.

"I discovered his secret a long time ago and gave him a safe place away from home. You know, when conversation at the dinner table got to be too much." Vlad pauses again, letting his words sink in.

Maddie hates that she knows exactly what he means. All those times she and Jack discussed their inventions, their plans for when they finally captured the ghost boy. Most of what Vlad is saying might be a lie, but the truth within it cuts her deeply. "Really?"

Vlad might think himself a great actor, but he's apparently ignorant to Maddie's own deception. He nods at her questioning tone, eyes low and mouth pressed into a grim line. "I understand this is hard to hear. I did my best to make him feel safe, and we actually became close. Over the years, I came to think of him as something of a son. And his death has affected me deeply."

He stands, trailing his hand along his desk as he walks around toward Maddie. His shoulders droop, as if Danny's absence weighs on him. It really is a good performance. Peering closer, Maddie sees that he even looks pallid, and purple bags rest under his eyes. A look easily accomplished with some pale foundation and smudged eyeshadow.

"It's like a piece of me is missing without him. I'm sure you feel the same. We need each other, Maddie. To make us whole again."

Vlad reaches toward her, but she ducks away from him, slipping out of her chair. His hand falls through the empty air and he stumbles, nearly falling into the chair.

Now he's being ridiculous, Maddie thinks. She could have fallen for the makeup and the sob story if she didn't know better, but the off balance act? The distressed look in his eye when she pulls away? She's insulted that he thinks she would fall for it.

"You're right Vlad. I'm in pain. Danny is gone and it feels like he took a piece of me with him when he died. But I have my family to help me through it." She grabs her purse off the other chair and heads for the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

"Madeline, please—"

"Vladimir!" Her shout tears at her throat. She turns on him, blinking to fight back the burn in her eyes. He stands frozen where she left him, crumpled pathetically against her empty chair, one hand still outstretched. Maddie swallows the lump in her throat. "Enough."

She leaves without another word.

Next

[trashyswitch]

Easter In The Sanders House

Thomas gets to celebrate Easter weekend with the sides! Patton plans a full day of Easter fun, which gets a little out of hand quickly thanks to Remus...But a dose of innocence should do him some good! (or 50 doses)

Some dirty talk and swearing because...Remus. Also, I have personally ruined my own childhood with this fanfic. -_- But I'll be okay. I promise! Happy Easter everyone!

Easter was usually a house favorite in the mind palace. Though it was a little different this year thanks to COVID, Thomas and the sides could still celebrate it together. They all lived in the same household, which helped a lot. And some of them were capable of conjuring up anything! So the sides could make just about anything if they put their minds to it.

The sides started off with decorating the house with easter stuff. Bits of it were homemade, some of it was conjured up, and a few of the decorations were bought. Example: the huge stuffed bunny. Thomas had bought a medium-sized bunny from Wal-mart, and Patton took it upon himself to make it even bigger! And…

...It ended up being 7 feet tall…

But Patton was LOVING it! He would cuddle it non-stop, ‘feed’ it stuffy carrots, and even brush its belly fur with an old hairbrush. It was quite endearing to watch, as well as a little strange. The father figure would even give it blankets and make it look like a jedi knight. It was actually quite hilarious to see the gigantic bunny looking like the Jawa without the double sash or the gun. Everyone both loved it, and hated it at the same time. Virgil even went as far as to say ‘That’s cursed’! And...he has a point.

The rest of the decorations were banners with hanging eggs, baskets filled with fake grass and plastic eggs, bouquets of real and fake flowers all over the place, and mini egg bowls around the house. There were even little bunnies popping out of mugs placed onto the dining table for decoration! That was Roman’s favorite decoration.

Just like he usually did, Patton set up a little Easter egg hunt of plastic eggs filled wih treats and other little things. This year however, Patton wanted to improvise with extra little items…

Thomas and all 6 of the sides were all ready with their own baskets. The sides’ baskets matched their clothes, while Thomas had a pink basket. Logan was the first to critique Patton’s childish games. “Patton...A little reminder that we’re all in our 30’s. We’re getting a little too old for-”

Patton looked at Logan with a ‘seriously?’ look and squeezed his side. “Hush your piehole. Santa may not exist but no one lets that stop us from celebrating Christmas.” Patton warned casually.

Logan jumped and moved a step away from Pat. “Fine. Touché.” Logan responded.

Roman and Remus both snapped their neck towards Patton. “SANTA DOESN’T EXIST?!”

Logan facepalmed and shook his head while Patton giggled into his hand. “On your mark silly geese!” Patton called. Everyone got into their push position to start running at the ready. “Get set...GO!”

Everyone started running around the house while Logan and Patton just walked. Patton was watching the six boys run around the house with their baskets. There were eggs literally everywhere! And some of them had chocolate, others had origami creations, A few had glitter, a few had cute quotes written in slips of papers like an easter fortune cookie, and other had…

“...An acorn?” Janus asked.

Logan looked over and widened his eyes. “That’s a chestnut oak acorn. They’re an oval-sized breed of acorn.” Logan told him. “They’re usually in more eastern states though. So how did you get it here?” Logan asked.

“I conjured it!” Patton replied. “Good thing you know your trees. You’re gonna enjoy the other eggs near there…” Patton hinted.

Logan looked around for the eggs, opened them up and gasped as he very gently removed it. “A butterfly wing!” Logan very delicately held it in his hand. “It’s...beautiful!” Logan admitted with a smile. Patton smiled happily upon seeing his reaction.

Virgil moved to his bedroom and noticed that there were eggs hidden in there. Virgil opened up, and laughed as he removed them from the plastic egg: They were pins! There was a pin with a salt shaker that said ‘Salty’ on it, a pin of a black cat standing on a skull, a pin of a black rose and a pin with a black cat holding a fish. They were so small and yet, so up his alley. There would end up being more pins, being enamel and backpack versions. It was nice and thoughtful. Sometimes there were dark parts about spring that Virgil enjoyed. And he was thankful that Patton advocated for him.

Logan was having a wonderful time looking at all the spring items hidden in the eggs. There were Chinese Lanterns, walnuts, strawberry seeds, and more! There were even tiny squares that when unravelled, revealed recipe’s that involved Crofter’s Jam! And he even managed to fit Crofters store coupons into the plastic eggs! Logan was smiling and hugging Patton. “Thank you very much Patton. I appreciate the many kind gestures. And I apologize for the insensitive words I said earlier. You can still find ways for 30 year old men to enjoy Easter.” Logan told him.

Patton giggled and hugged him back. “Oh! And one more thing:” Patton conjured up a bunny ear headband. Logan’s smile dropped and he hung his head. “Really? Bunny ears?” Logan asked with a small smile.

Patton giggled. “Do you not remember our promise? You promised during March break that you were gonna wear bunny ears!” Patton reminded him.

“I am aware of my promise, but I’m starting to regret making such a promise.” Logan admitted.

Patton rolled his eyes and put it onto his head. “Perfect! See? It’s not that bad.” Patton told him.

Logan looked up. “Fine. But would you potentially consider making the ears look more realistic?” Logan offered a compromise.

Patton nodded and touched the bunny ears. They turned into brown and white bunny ears, with a very light pink skin all over the inner ear flap. Logan conjured up a mirror, and smiled. “Thank you.” Logan replied.

Remus was running around, acting like a raccoon. “Look at me! I’m RJ! I eat garbage, steal from Karens and ruin people’s lives!” Remus declared.

Roman chuckled and fluffed Remus’s hair. “I feel like you’d be more of a Hammy.” Roman admitted.

Remus gasped and clapped his hands. “YES! I COULD STOP TIME WITH THE POWER OF CAFFEINE! AND THEN BURN PEOPLE TO SHREDS WITH ILLEGAL LASERS AND CAGES!” Remus shouted.

Roman snapped his fingers and ran to Patton’s basket. “We got you something!” Roman told him.

Patton turned around and squealed upon the present! There was a chocolate chick, a DVD copy of ‘Over the Hedge’, and a DVD copy of It’s ‘The Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown!’. Patton happily took the DVD’s and the chocolate chick. “THANK YOU! YOU ARE ALL AMAZING!” Patton hugged as many people in one hug as his arms could. If his arms were stretchy like Elasticgirl’s, then maybe he could!

Later on, the family had a lovely Easter dinner. Cooked carrots, roast beef, baked potatoes and packaged gravy for it all. Patton and Thomas all worked together to make their supper, while Logan took some time to make a Crofter’s recipe he was given during the plastic egg hunt. With some time, Logan had whipped together what he called: Loganberry Crumble Squares. A simple recipe of rolled, layered oat crumble with Loganberry Crofter’s put into the middle of them! It tasted amazing! The recipe called for Gluten-free oats, but Logan just picked up regular oats for the recipe. No one was allergic to wheat. So, why worry?

After supper, the family gathered together to watch the Charlie Brown Easter Special. They enjoyed Marcie’s cute little ‘boiling eggs’ gags, and loved seeing Sally Brown and Snoopy playing with the hats! Patton died of cuteness overload at Snoopy and the bunnies dancing, and Janus admitted he felt bad that Snoopy didn’t have an egg for Charlie Brown.

Virgil looked at Janus. “Charlie rarely gets things. He has a best friend and a crush, but that’s about it. Lucy’s probably the reason he doesn’t have anything.” Virgil admitted.

“That’s true. But you gotta admit: Lucy and Shroeder are kinda cute together.” Roman added.

Thomas laughed. “That all depends on Schroeder falling for her as well.” Thomas added.

Logan sighed. “Poor Schroeder...she never leaves him alone. A life of Beethoven and piano playing is much better than a childish relationship with a girl like her.” Logan added.

Janus smirked. “Right! A relationship with Lucy will NEVER work. It’s not like she actually softens up to Charlie Brown near the end or anything...” Janus hinted.

Roman widened his eyes. “Wait, really?!”

Logan turned to him. “That’s true. I also realize she later develops a crush on Charlie near the end of the comic strips.” Logan added.

“So...So Schroeder and Lucy-”

Remus made a downward whistling sound while he lowered his finger and made an ‘explosion’ sound effect while expanding his hands. “But Charlie and Lucy:” Remus did a wolf-whistle before wrapping his own arms around himself and ‘making out’ with himself. “Oh Charlie! CHARLie! YeS!”

Roman gasped in horror while Thomas widened his eyes. “EW! You’re so disgusting! They’re 8!” Thomas yelled.

Roman had thrown Remus off the couch, leaving Remus rolling around on the floor in a fit of hysterics. Janus was snickering into his hand while Logan facepalmed himself. “THEHEY DIDN’T EVEN GEHEHET TO THE BEST PAHART!” Remus laughed.

Virgil groaned. “They don’t need to. This is why they need more than just teachers and shop owners in their community.” Virgil reacted.

Remus stopped laughing. “Why? Because Sally and Linus could be having fun at the back of the school yard?” Remus asked. “Virgil! You naughty, naughty man~”

Patton dropped his jaw and fixed his glasses with a frown. “That’s it! You need a big dose of innocence!” Patton declared, picking him up and dropping him onto the couch. He climbed onto him. “Starting with your hips!” Patton started digging his thumbs into his hips.

Remus’s naughty comeback was quickly overruled by his very own scream of surprise! “FAAAHAHAHACK!”

Patton smirked. “Language! Looks like I’m gonna need to up the ante!” Patton moved his hands to his lower, inner thighs and started squeezing and skittering.

“OHSHIT- GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Remus completely lost it and just about kneed Patton in the face a few times! “STAAHAHAHAP! TOHOHOHO MUHUHUCH IHINNOCEHEHENCE!” Remus yelled.

Logan couldn’t help but smile at Patton’s way of handling him. He soon started smirking with Patton as well. “I’d almost say you should up this dose to lethal.” Logan offered.

Patton gasped and turned his head to look at Logan with an excited face. “You’re a genius!” Patton declared.

“And a change of lifestyle may even lessen the indecent behaviour. For example: consumptions of veggies and fruits…” Logan hinted.

Patton’s smirk grew so wide almost all his teeth were visible. “Oh! Fruits are a good one!”

Remus yelped in horror. “OHOHO NOHOHO, YOHOHOU’RE NOHOHOT FILLIHIHING MEHEHE WITH SWEETNEHEHESS!” Remus warned.

Patton looked at Remus with a confident facial expression. “Are you suggesting something more sour? Like...raspberries?” Patton asked.

Remus squealed! And he only heard the word! “NOHOHOHO! NORASPBERRIHIES! BEHEHEGOHOHONE!” Remus ordered. “IHIHI OHOHORDER YOHOU TO-”

Patton took in a deep breath and blew a big raspberry onto Remus’s inner thigh.

Remus squealed and screamed like a bat in severe distress! “AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! AAHAHAHA PAHAHAHAHAHA!” Remus screamed.

“My goodness Remus! You sound like you’re dying! What could possibly be so funny?!” Patton asked.

Janus smirked. “It couldn’t possibly be the thought of playboy magazines or babies making love.” Janus teased, just riling up Patton even more.

Patton clicked his tongue in disappointment. “My my my...I suppose even the smaller doses won’t stop you from your addictive thoughts...Perhaps you really DO need a lethal dose of innocence!” Patton admitted.

Remus was struggling. “WAHAHAIT NO! IHIHI DOHOHON’T! THISIS BAHAHAD EHEHENOHOHOUGH!”

Patton hummed. “Well, guess there’s only one way to test if it’s working!” Patton decided. Patton removed his fingers and let Remus have a break. Remus let in heavy breaths at first, to conquer his loss of oxygen. But within two minutes…

“Hehey, hey Janus:” Remus asked.

Janus looked over. “Yes?”

“Imagine Marcie being spicy for Peppermint Patty~” Remus made a sexy roaring sound.

Patton was immediately at him again. “Time for the second lethal dose, you stubborn pickle!” Patton declared quickly.

Thomas wheezed and hung his head. “Did you just call him a pickle?” Thomas asked, laughing.

“Yes I did! Because he’s being a green, sour dick!” Patton declared. While Thomas questioned his ears and sanity, Patton started blowing raspberry after raspberry on Remus’s thigh.

Remus was absolutely losing it! “AHAHAHIHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAN’T! AAAAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHO *snort* DAHAHAHAMMIHIHIHIHIT!”

Thomas quickly whipped his head around to see where the unusual sound came from.

Patton had widened his eyes and covered his mouth. “You SNORT?!” he asked, stopping his tickling momentarily.

Remus took a quick moment to breathe and nodded his head. “Ihihi- Ialways hahahave.”

Patton looked at Roman. Roman nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. He snorted when he was little too.” Roman admitted.

Patton looked at Roman curiously. “What about you?” Patton asked.

Roman hummed and tilted his head. “Me?”

Patton started staring at Roman with suspicious eyes. “......Logan, get him.” Patton told him.

Logan wrapped his arms around Roman and immediately went for the belly. “Way ahead of you.”

Roman squealed and threw his head back with bubbly giggles coming out. Despite Remus’s laugh sounding more witch-like, The twins’ laughter sounded fairly similar to each other. So now both twins were being tickled for separate reasons; Remus’s being ‘constant potty mouth’ while Roman’s being ‘kept secrets’.

“LOHOHohohoho! Meheheheheaniihihie! Lehehehet mehehehe gohohohoho!”

“PAHAHAT! *snort* IHIHIHI’M GOHOHONNA *snort* KIHIHILL YOHOHOHOU!”

Patton gasped at Remus’s words. “Threatening me as well!? My goodness...You really don’t learn, do you?” he teased. Patton blew one raspberry on his left thigh, and two raspberries on his right thigh.

“AAAAAHAHAHAHAAA-” With one last snort, Remus finally went silent. He couldn’t really breathe very well at this point and was growing very red. So Patton gave him a break and got off him. Remus took some time getting his oxygen back. It felt great to be able to breathe again. He tried to breathe fairly heavily to get oxygen in faster. With due time, he slowly lost his tomato face and started turning more peach-colored again. With a bottle of water from Patton, Remus was pretty much okay. He was smiling and still slightly giggling after he finished the bottle.

“Are you done with your silly jokes yet?” Patton asked.

Remus lifted his head up, took one look at him and let his head fall back down. “M...Maybe for a bit.” Remus replied.

Patton smiled. “Good.”

Remus laid there for a few more minutes while he took in the sound of Roman’s giggly laughter. Logan was STILL tickling him but this time, he was pinning one arm up and tickling his armpit. To make things even better, Roman was starting to snort as well. And Patton was living for it!

“It’s truly fascinating how both twins have developed a snorty laugh.” Logan added.

“Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup! *snort* Ehehehevihihihil fiehehehend!” Roman yelled to him.

Logan raised his eyebrows. “Evil? You think I’m being evil?” Logan asked.

“Yehehehehessss! Ehehehevihihil Ihihihi- *snort* Ihihi sahahahayhy!” Roman shot back.

Logan chuckled at that. “I am being much more merciful and gentle to you, compared to how Patton was treating Remus.” Logan explained.

“Yohohohou’re tihihicklihihing mehehehe *snort* fohohor noho reheheasohohon!” Roman protested.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Actually, we did have a reason to tickle you. We just didn’t tell you what it was.” Logan added.

“We wanted to see if you snorted too!” Patton declared.

Logan looked at Patton. “Hey! I was gonna tell him when he stopped insulting me with his childish names.” Logan reacted.

Patton snickered. “He was gonna find out anyway. Minus well do it now!” Patton declared, closing his eyes with a proud smile.

Logan sighed. “You’re no fun.” Logan whined.

Patton opened his eyes and opened his mouth in surprise. What did he just say?! “I...After all I planned for easter-”

Thomas quickly put his hands on Patton’s shoulders. “Patton, don’t listen to Logan. You are tons of fun! You planned all this for us, and for that we’re so grateful.” Thomas told him.

Janus, Remus, Virgil, Roman and even Logan nodded. Logan paused the tickling for a moment while Roman sat up.

“Thank you Patton!” All six of them said happily at the same time!

Patton smiled and couldn’t stop himself from tearing up. “You’re welcome guys.” Patton hugged Thomas. Virgil joined the hug as well, followed by Remus.

With that out of the way and Patton cheered up again, Logan resumed tickling Roman for a little longer before letting the prince breathe. Roman’s loss of oxygen was much more minor compared to Remus. But that was only because Remus wouldn’t stop doing the one thing that granted him tickles. Maybe it was because Remus wanted tickles? Or maybe it was because Remus has a legitimate addiction to it.

Whatever the reason, Remus was quick to start up his grotesque headcanons about the Peanuts Characters. This would further ruin Patton’s childhood and cause Remus further fits of ticklish laughter. Perhaps they could consider a new, more effective treatment for dirty language?

Or...maybe not. Remus seems to like it. And no one would wanna ruin his fun! Happy Easter indeed.

[welcometophu]

The Meaning of Home, Chapter 1

The Meaning of Home Chapter 1

Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.

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Even knowing that he’ll see him at the end of the trip, it’s strange for Pawel to be driving to his childhood home without Conor in the car. Usually his son would be requesting music changes, playing videos so loud that Pawel could hear them even with Conor’s headphones in place, or generally talking up a storm. Even after cranking the radio up to fill the silence, Pawel feels alone in a way he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

He can’t blame it entirely on Conor. Yes, as a single father he hasn’t had much, if any, time to himself in the last nine years. But this past academic year has been chaos to the point where it seems strange not to have one of his students in the car as they head off to save the world.

Students, yes, but he’s not that much older than most of them. Some of them are friends as well.

Rest. Take the summer and rest.

The voice in his mind sounds suspiciously like Mac, and he hears Carolyn’s soft, aggravated huff not long after as she adds, Get normal amounts of sleep. Take a shower. Eat real food.

Spend time with your kid, imaginary Mac adds.

Great. He’s back to being that only child who used to have conversations with invisible friends, except now, as an adult, it’s advice about self-care from real people who aren’t even here.

The thing is, they’re not wrong. He knows he has a tendency to focus intently on the one most important thing at hand and tune out everything else. Since fall semester—for the first time in nine years—that wasn’t Conor, and he still feels guilty about that. He feels the kind of guilty that means there are two brand new games for Conor’s handheld system in a bag on the back seat, along with a cooler holding freshly butchered grass-fed bison steaks as a thank you for his father for helping him out.

Pawel exhales.

Maybe he’s having a little trouble letting go of the chaos. In a way, it felt good to be busy. To fix things.

They saved the world.

Nobody knows it, but it happened. And Pawel knows, so he should be satisfied with a job well-done.

The question is: what can he do now?

Rest.

For all that they’re imaginary, the voices of his students are right, and he knows this. It’s just hard to let it all go, to accept that the chaos has ended and he can do that. But he’s clean-shaven, and his hair is neatly trimmed, even if he didn’t go back to his buzz cut. He looks older in the mirror than he remembers being when the school year began. He might even look his age, which would go a long way to gaining respect from incoming freshmen in the fall.

He just needs something to do with himself while on vacation over the summer.

Maybe his old dojang would let him step into a taekwondo class or two while he’s visiting Dad. It’d be nice to be the student rather than the instructor for once.

You couldn’t let go of control that much.

“Shut up.” He says it as if imaginary Mac would even listen.

One song ends, and for a second, the silence in the car echoes before the next song begins.

This isn’t working.

He reaches out to touch the button on his radio dash for the phone, then presses Mac’s number from his contact list.

“Aren’t you with your family?” She starts speaking without bothering to greet him.

He adjusts the volume so that her voice isn’t quite so loud. “Hello to you, too. I’m almost there now. It’s quiet in the car. No Conor. Not even any grouchy almost adults grumbling about saving the world, or muttering about sparring.”

Mac snorts softly. “I’m only a few years younger than you, Pawel. And out of us all, Rory’s probably got the oldest soul. I take it you’re bored?”

“A little,” he admits. “Pels’s family moved into the house on Friday, then left for Burlington. As far as I know, everything’s gone well up there; they weren’t back before I left the house today. Anita’s got my number in case she needs anything for the house while they’re renting it out this summer. Traffic’s been decent, so I’m maybe fifteen minutes from my Dad’s house now, and the silence is killing me. How’s your summer break going?”

There’s a delay before Mac replies, and her voice sounds determinedly cheerful when she does. “It’s a break. I’m thinking about my research, and the fact that my advisor is in Italy until the end of June and told me I can’t work without him there. Which means Mom thought I should come home for a while, and right now things are… awkward… with me and Dad. So. There’s that.”

When Mac says it, Dad means Senator Delwin Palmer. Pawel knows what that meant to Mac as a part of a secret government training program for Talented children, before she came to PHU. He knows that everything they learned about the government involvement in the creation of the soul-destroying Shadows has only made her relationship with her stepfather more difficult.

He makes a small noise. “Are you going back to PHU soon?”

“Mid June, so I’ll be here about three weeks. I’m going to take my brother to the festival when Rory and Thorne are in DC in a couple of weeks, and I’m spending most of my time in the museums and libraries in DC until then.” She exhales. “I’ve thought about going to see my father, but I think that’ll be the weekend that I drive back up to PHU. I’ll just stop in to visit him in the city while he’s got some time off work.” Mac hesitates, her words more forceful when she asks, “How long are you planning on staying with your dad?”

Fine, Pawel will accept the change of topic, changing conversational directions at the same time as he takes the exit into town that will lead to his childhood home.

Sort of. It’s not the same house he grew up in, but it’s close to the same neighborhood.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m on leave for the summer. It’s not a sabbatical—they don’t do that for less than a year, and right now they won’t let me go for a whole year until the department has more experienced faculty. But it’s a paid leave and I’m supposedly researching my next book. The thing is, Dad doesn’t have a lot of space since he moved into the retirement community. I’m going to be crashing on his couch. Conor’s got the bed in the guest room.”

“Sounds great for your back.” Mac laughs. “You’ll probably still sleep better than you did for most of the spring.”

“Probably,” Pawel agrees. “I think—” He stops abruptly, because that makes it sound like he has a plan in place. “I’m going to play it by ear. Conor’s made friends there, although he’s clearly missing Alan and home, too. Everyone keeps telling me that I need to just stop trying to fix things and take a break. Including a voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like you.”

“Good to know my voice has infected your brain, like the way I hear yours saying ‘commit to the kick’ whenever I’m sparring and going for that head kick against a much taller opponent,” Mac says dryly.

“They’re all taller than you.” Pawel takes a series of turns, remembering to turn left instead of right at the critical intersection. He slows down; there’s no one else on the road behind him to annoy, and he’s not quite ready to arrive yet.

Mac sputters. “Rude.”

“True.”

“Fine. True,” she agrees. “Taekwondo is a sport for tall people. I’m just a good jumper, and before you say it, no, I’m not teleporting to get there. Most of the time.”

He rolls down the road towards a four-way stop. There’s a sign across the way proclaiming the entrance to Hart Acres. If he turned left, he could make his way to the police station where his dad works, and right would loop him back behind his old neighborhood.

Straight takes him into his dad’s new life in a retirement village where half the people who live there aren’t actually retired. His dad’s been living there for a year, and Pawel’s not sure when he’ll finally step down as Police Chief. He likes his work far too much to give it up.

Dad says it’s easier to keep working when he doesn’t have to worry about the little things like mowing the lawn. Hart Acres takes care of that for him.

Pawel’s pretty sure Dad’s going to work until he has both feet in the grave, and then he might just keep going.

“Hey.” Mac’s voice is low. “Did I lose you?”

Right. He was having a conversation.

“I’m just about there,” Pawel admits. “There’s an old lady walking her fluffy dog down the street. I guess I should hang up. Focus on finding the place and not hitting the two people that are in the middle of the road having a conversation.”

No exaggeration. Now that he’s pulled into Hart Acres and is following the first traffic circle he encounters around to the second exit, there are small knots of people gathered everywhere. Including two smack dab in the middle of one of the side streets.

They see him looking and lift their hands in cheerful synchronized waves.

“I am really not ready to see my dad as the kind of guy who needs to be surrounded by old people looking for a social life,” Pawel mutters. He makes a disgruntled noise when Mac snickers.

He’s in front of the house before he can say anything else.

“Go,” Mac says. “Hug Conor for me, and tell him to work hard. He’s still in school, right?”

“Another three weeks, yeah,” Pawel says. “I might take him out for a day on Friday to head up to Buffalo for Rory and Thorne’s tour, though. It’s a holiday weekend, so maybe the school has the day off—they do weird things with snow days sometimes. Although the weather was strange this winter and they might not have the extra days.”

“Nikki would apologize if you need her to,” Mac says. She’s quiet for a moment. “Hey. You really should take the time to rest. Let your dad be the parent for a little while. Enjoy being home, and with your family. You don’t have anything you need to save right now. The world isn’t ending. Just have fun for the summer.”

“Only if you promise me that you’ll rest, too,” he responds. He wants to say that he understands that it’s not that easy. He understands that talking to Delwin Palmer is going to be complicated, and that putting herself back in that environment only brings the PTSD out in full force. “You can always call me if you need someone to talk to.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m back in the area,” she says. “Maybe we can get together and spar. I’m taking a break from organized classes while I’m home.”

Her old dojang isn’t full of happy memories like Pawel’s is.

“Sure, we can do that.” He catches movement out of the corner of his eye; the door to his father’s unit nudges open. “Conor’s coming out. I need to go.”

“Bye, Pawel. Rest.”

“I will,” he promises.

The music blares for a moment after she hangs up; he turns the key and silences it. He manages to get out of the car as Conor races around it and slams into him, hugging him hard. Pawel wraps his arms around him, and exhales as he feels the familiar crackle of Conor’s magic around him.

“I missed you,” Pawel murmurs. His hand is between Conor’s shoulder-blades, and it feels higher than it used to rest in this same position. “Did you grow in the last two months?”

“An inch since he arrived.” Dad stands on the lawn next to a girl about Conor’s age that Pawel doesn’t recognize. Her mouth is pinched and her brows furrowed. She has her arms crossed tight across her chest as she leans forward, a myriad of braids falling forward across her shoulders and down her back. Dad puts a hand on her shoulder, and she straightens up, shoulders relaxing. “I started a growth door for him here. We’ll need to get a mark on it for you so he can see what he’s aiming for.”

There was a piece of trim in Pawel’s childhood house that had marks for every few months of his age, from toddlerhood to adulthood. He wonders if the new owners painted over the careful notes made in his mother’s hand, and the messier ones his father wrote after she passed away.

“I had Dziadziu put Emma on the door, too.” Conor slips from Pawel’s hold and grabs his hand, dragging him towards Dad and the girl who still watches warily. “This is Emma. She’s in my class, and she’s a Weather Witch, and she’s my friend. We’re both new here. She’s talked to Alan with me.”

“I know they’re married,” Emma says with a heavy sigh and an eyeroll. “Conor’s not my boyfriend. I don’t want a boyfriend.”

“You say that like people have been trying to tell you that you can’t be friends because you’re a boy and a girl.” Pawel stops in front of her and holds out his hand solemnly. “Hello, Emma. I’m Pawel. And don’t worry, I understand that most people are full of shit. Right now my best friend is a girl and I can assure you I have no romantic intentions towards her whatsoever. And if I did, she might kick me in the balls.”

Dad makes a strangled sound.

Emma tilts her head, brow still furrowed. “I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t say that people are full of shit.” She takes his hand and looks at their joined hands in some confusion, then drops it again. “But you’re right. They are. Come on, Conor.”

“I think you’d like Mac,” Conor says as he walks by Emma’s side and they disappear into the house. “She’s small but fierce. She used to be a gymnast and now she kicks ass.”

Pawel should say something, but he did just tell them that people are full of shit, so maybe he can cut him some slack for language this time.

“I did say that someday you’d be lucky enough to have a kid just like you,” Dad observes. “That said, Conor’s been a good kid while he’s been here. Getting good grades, getting his work done. He and Emma bonded straight off—her parents disappeared not long before you did, so they had something in common. Except, of course, you’re back and they’re not. She’s living with a foster family here.”

There are a dozen potential things wrong with everything Dad’s just said. Pawel rolls the thoughts around in his mind as he heads back to his car, opening the doors so that he and Dad can both take several things into the house. “Do they know she’s Talented?” he asks.

“You know where the guest room is.” Dad points through the living room and kitchenette to the small hall beyond. “Right at the end there. Just take Conor’s stuff down. We’ll put your things to the side in the living room for now.”

Conor pops his head out of his room just as Pawel arrives. “What do you mean for now? Aren’t we staying all summer? I thought we’d stay here all summer, Dad. Dziadziu said we could.”

There are times when Pawel wonders what their family looks like from the outside: three generations having three separate conversations in tangled instances, answering questions in random order. He can see where Emma sits on the bed, Conor’s tablet in her hands. She doesn’t seem concerned.

“I’m sleeping on the couch, Conor. We’ll stay in town, but we might need to get a hotel room. I’m going to need a bed eventually,” Pawel points out.

“I’ll move in with Emma. Her dads wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t think they’d even notice,” Emma says dryly. “I like Conor better than Matt.”

“She has four foster siblings,” Conor stage whispers.

Emma looks up, gaze pinning him. “They aren’t my siblings. I’m an only child. We’re all just fosters in the same house, except Nevaeh and Jennie. I think they’re almost as good as adopted. Jennie doesn’t even remember her parents.”

For once, Pawel is the one getting whiplash from the swift turns in conversation.

“Is everyone Talented?” It’s the same question, asked a different way, and this time he throws it out there for anyone to answer. He drops the bag of Conor’s summer clothes on the bed, next to where Emma sits.

“Her dads are both Talented!” Conor bounces up onto the bed, almost knocking the suitcase off. “One’s Clan and one’s—”

“They aren’t my dads,” Emma snaps. She drops Conor’s tablet on the bed and stands up, her body shivering so hard that her braids shake. “My mom and dad are coming back. They aren’t my dads at all. I’m just staying there until—”

“My dad can find them.”

Emma’s mouth is slightly open, her voice a small squeak. “What?”

“My dad is really good at everything about Talented people. He’s an expert.” Conor nods quickly. “He’s so much an expert that he teaches people not to be stupid—uninformed,” he corrects himself, “about what it means to be Talented. He knows everything.”

“Not everything,” Pawel tries to stay, but Conor steamrolls over him.

“He just saved the world, and he’s friends with Clan and with Mages, and we know this entire commune of Mages up in Burlington and if anyone can find your parents, he can,” Conor says firmly. “You’ll do it, Dad, right?”

“I think I’d need a little more information before I can promise that,” Pawel says slowly.

“Your father is supposed to be resting.” Dad stands behind him, and Pawel doesn’t need to turn to know the look Dad gives Conor. He was on the receiving end of that look himself many times as a child. Dad continues, “The last time your father got involved in something, he disappeared and you came here.”

Conor’s mouth snaps shut, lips pressed and his cheeks flushed. “He came back,” he mutters. “He always comes back.”

Emma pats the bed and when Conor sits, she puts her arms around him and holds on. “Maybe mine will come back, just like yours did. Then your dad won’t have to go find them.” Her whisper is too loud to be entirely secret. “I don’t want your dad to disappear again.”

“Me neither,” Conor admits.

“Emma.” 

“Dziadziu!” Conor interrupts him. “Did you ask Emma’s dads—”

“They’re not my dads.”

“—if she can stay over tonight?” The sadness is gone from Conor’s expression as he bounces on the bed. “She’s got stuff in a drawer from the last time she stayed. She can get on the bus with me in the morning, and we can play games with Alan online later.” His gaze skates to Pawel. “If you say it’s okay, of course.”

It’s only been a couple of months, and Conor has somehow built himself a routine here. Pawel isn’t entirely sure how he fits into it.

It’s strange thinking about Conor growing up and growing apart from Pawel when his son is only nine years old.

“I talked to them,” Dad assures them. “But that means sleep tonight. It’s a school night, and I’ll be checking. No magic after dark. No surprise storms. No more rain indoors.”

“That was once!” Conor protests.

“Lights out by half past eight, and I want you asleep by nine,” Dad says in a tone that brooks no argument. “You’ve got plenty of time before then; we haven’t even had dinner yet. You might even be sick of each other by then.”

“Never!” Conor and Emma chorus.

Pawel has to wait for Dad to move before they can both slip out of the room, leaving the door cracked. “I’m glad he’s made friends here,” Pawel says quietly. “He and Alan are—well, I’d almost call them codependent sometimes. I was worried. But they both seem to be doing well.”

“Conor’s fallen on his feet, that’s for sure. He’s a lot like another child I once knew: just starts talking until he finds his spot to fit in. Might even have a bit of a savior complex.”

Pawel gives his father a dark look. “I do not have a savior complex. If I did, I’d have followed you into law enforcement, rather than going into academia.”

Dad smiles. “You’re still saving people. You just go about it in a different way on a daily basis. But it seems to me like you didn’t even hesitate when you found out your students needed your help. You can’t resist a puzzle.”

“Apple didn’t fall far from the tree, I get it,” Pawel mutters. “Fine, fine. We’re all peas in a pod, and a hundred other trite descriptive phrases. The Szczek men have similar traits.”

“Mm.” Dad leads the way outside, so they can retrieve the last few things from Pawel’s car. “Some of us have learned how to ask for help,” he says quietly. “Conor’s made himself at home in Emma’s foster house. He’s spent more than a few nights there, and yes, before you ask, I trust her foster fathers completely. One of them works with me. But that’s something you might want to think about this summer, Pawel.”

Pawel shoulders the backpack with his computer in it, and closes the door to his car. “What’s that, Dad?”

“You don’t have to do everything on your own,” Dad reminds him. “For the summer, you’ve got me. Think about what to do when you get home. The fate of the world doesn’t need to rest on your shoulders alone.”

It seems like everyone’s got something to say about his bad habits. The thing is, Pawel’s got help at home. He’s a single father; he knows he needs assistance sometimes. He’s got Alan’s family next door. Emily’s always willing to help out with Conor. But he’s also got… a lot of responsibility. He’s a professor, and a dean, and he leads Coven and the taekwondo team. 

Who the hell else is he going to rely on? Pawel does the things no one else is available to do.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” he says, because he knows it’s what Dad needs to hear. “I’m not going to overwork myself again. I’ll make sure I’ve got help.”

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[kl-writes]

Solo Mage, Day 1

I wanted to try out Mage: The Ascension, but there really aren’t any good groups or places to find groups out there. I might have had luck if I put myself out there as a GM for an online game, but to be honest I really didn’t feel like GMing or sticking to a rigid schedule… it’s much easier to flake out on a game every once in awhile as a player than as a GM.

So I decided I’d do it solo, using Mythic GME and a very shaky understanding of the rules. My “session 0” was mostly spent making the character following Mage’s basic character creation system, and then filling in the details with Central Casting: Heroes Now. (The latter isn’t really necessary, but I am bad at coming up with good character ideas and Central Casting has produced good results in the past)

I really wanted to play a character involved with the Time Sphere, to start with, since it seemed like fun. Basic concept was that she was a sort of “flaky librarian.” She was aligned with the Cult of Ecstasy (Though, due to her more “bookish” nature compared to the rest of the sect, she’d insist on calling it “The Naturals). She still held a bit of a Trickster demeanor, but her nature was Benefactor since I like playing good guys and seeing them suffer.

My idea for her awakening was that she found some sort of book written in Linear A (Minoan, dead language) at a dig site, and something about circumstances (Other mages after the book?) caused her to awaken. Dig site was part of her being a research assistant at her college, since she was still a grad student. The book would become her unique focus.

Central Casting went in an unexpected direction (per normal), but ended up tying in rather well.

I won’t go into detail as to what I rolled for what, since I did fudge a bit here and there, but this is what I ended up with:

Lucille was born 25 years ago to a middle-class Champa family in Cambodia. She, her 4 younger siblings, and 2 of her cousins were raised by their grandparents. None of them know what happened to their parents. Her grandfather is a stern, yet frail man who still works as a stonemason at the age of 71. He’s highly misogynistic, xenophobic, and for some unknown reason life magick does not work on him. Her grandmother is an unattractive 75-yo woman with a great fear of fire.

Her whole family:

Parents- Looks like an oracle question, Central Casting lacks the ‘whale ate my parents’ table

(Grandfather, 71) A stern but frail man who still works as a stonemason despite his years. He is a misogynist and rather xenophobic. For unknown reasons, life magic and magical healing do not work on him (does this ever come up?)

(Grandmother, 75) An unattractive woman, an insomniac with a great fear of fire.

Laurence (Younger brother, 24)

Lilianne (Younger sister, 21)

Livie (Younger sister, 19)

Léa (Younger sister, 13)

Marcel (Cousin, 26): Becomes a deadly rival

Marguerite (Cousin, 22)

Adam (Son, 4): Conceived shortly before her boyfriend Chan went off to military service

Chan (Boyfriend, 27): Worked as a janitor, drafted into military shortly before Adam was born. He had a 4-year commitment, but is planning on re-enlistment.

Life Events

When Lucille was very young, almost too young to remember, something unknown ripped a hole in the parliament building in Phnom Penh, the capital. Gas main of some sort, according to the authorities. Some time after, Lucille found a 900 year old artifact and a bunch of black and white photos of dragons and other strange monsters in the attic, in a strange box. Her father is in some of these photos. There’s strange writing on a back that she didn’t recognize. When her grandfather discovered her, she was severely punished. He implied that if she wasn’t a blood relative, she’d be dead, and swore her to secrecy on the strange box.

At age 9, Lucille became a volleyball prodigy. She eventually became locally famous for this, with her team later winning high school nationals. This also landed her a nice sports scholarship to her college.

At age 14, Lucille became friends with Soth, one of her younger brother’s classmates from school. He had come over with a few other classmates allegedly to study, but really just to play video games. Soth wandered to the attic, and Lucille had a sudden bad feeling. She went up to thea ttic to find Soth looking through the strange box. Lucille goes to seize Soth, and he holds up the amulet instinctively. Lucille is flung back, hitting her head on one of the rafters and getting knocked out. She wakes up to an apologetic Soth. Lucille very nearly died here, were it not for the amulet being tied to her family line, and her own unawakened abilities (Which may have quite nearly awakened here).

Lucille agrees to keep Soth’s secret, not wanting her grandfather to kill him. Soth puts the amulet back. Soth and Lucille become somewhat friends through the shared secret. Within a few years, Soth picks up a mentor in the Cult of Ecstasy. Because of this, he has to cut down on what he can share with Lu about the world of magick, which strains their friendship. (However, this also puts in a nice way for why Lu might join Cult of Ecstasy even though their ideals aren’t perfectly aligned)

At age 15, Lucille begins a deadly rivalry with her cousin Marcel. (It probably doesn’t start deadly, but it is by the time she’s 25). It starts as a rivalry in school, in sports, etc. It cools down when Marcel awakens, but heats back up after Lucille also awakens and starts working counter to Marcel’s goals. They are both the “eldest” of their parents. For whatever reason, eldest children in the family tend to awaken.

I’m unsure if Marcel should be a traditionalist, a technocrat, or some other faction. Later events have Lucille being well-educated, a professor (Modified to be a TA/research assistant to match max starter education in Mage), etc. The fact that she went traditionalist would be infuriating to a hardline technocrat. On the other hand, if Marcel aligns with Traditionalists, there’s more room for non-combat or subtler attacks, as well as more interactions.  I will probably will let Mythic GME figure this out when it comes up, I won’t know for now since Lu won’t know

At age 17, Lucille takes up songwriting.

At age 20, Lucille has a romantic encounter with Chan, who works as a janitor at her college. He’s from a less-wealthy family, he’s not pursuing higher education, he’s a khmer buddhist instead of a champa hindu, and overall is everything that would annoy her grandfather. This ends up as a romantic triangle with Marcel. (Central Casting would have me create a different character here, but it’s better in a solo game to keep a small cast). They give each other a hard time at first, and seem to dislike each other, but this turns into romance. It turns long-distance when Chan is called up for military service. Lu’s pregnant at the time with Adam.

Lucille had a fairly typical education. Her parents were comfortable, and her tuition’s helped greatly by her volleyball scholarship. She finished her bachelor’s a few years ago. She’s now working on her master’s, and works as a research assistant

Other information from central casting-

Traits

[N] Illogical- May not use reason to make decisions

[D] Filthy- Knows nothing of hygiene

[L] Truthful- Always tells the truth

[D] Violent- Seeks physical contact

[D] Tactless- Speaks without thinking (Ties in a bit with truthful: she’s a blunt person)

[D] Spendthrift- Spends money without thought (Illogical, no thinking… there’s a bit of a flaky pattern here…)

[D] Unenthusiastic- Can’t get excited (She’s a bit of a stick in the mud, in contrast with the sarcastic, wise-cracking BFF Soth. Red Oni, Blue Oni?)

Most valued person: Father (Dead? Missing? Did he ever exist?). Trivial effect on life. Lu’s long since given up. (Stern/misogynistic grandfather, missing father, now the father of her child’s went off to the military and is only rarely there… She’s probably got some psychological stuff associated with men). Still, those photos in her grandfathers’ attic are always in the back of her mind.

Most valued thing: Article of clothing. (Not the amulet, that’s grandpa’s) Weak effect on life. She has a lucky hat!  (It’s not actually lucky). Team hat, she got it in high school when they won national championship! Her college volleyball didn’t go as well, Cambodia’s always been “middle of the pack” on the world stage

Most valued abstraction: Power (Uh oh) Trivial effect on life. She’s a bit annoyed about being second fiddle (To her younger brother Laurence, to her cousin Marcel, to her friend Soth, and even to her boyfriend Chan’s career). Except for Marcel, she’s not particularly bitter. Or at least, she doesn’t think she’s bitter.

I altered the alignment section since the high number of “darkside” traits meant that Lu would also be evil. I adjust Diabolical to be a bit more kindly

Lu’s always been headstrong, unassailable. She doesn’t listen well to authority unless that authority’s proved its worth. (Her coaches, professors, etc). She doesn’t trust people who hold to a rigid code of ethics, seeing too many people lie for “the greater good,” or rather their own gain. Hypocritically, her devotion to always being truthful perhaps is its own rigid code.

So, it ended up going in a direction I did not expect, but because I fudged a few rolls near the end to put her into the “professor” career, it still tracks that she might be at a dig site on Crete and find a weird book. The details of the awakening will be discovered through use of the mythic gme oracle.

[skullvins]

What would be your Coroika Name and What's Your Top 3 Headcanons?

I actually do have a squidsona (link here) who follows the coroika naming convention! their name is classic! so I feel like either that, or maybe flip? I wear the king flip mesh both with my heavy and in real life, so!

top 3 hcs...... hm...... I could slap a load of my queer ones or one’s I’ve talked about before (like in the tags of this post) but we all know those. SO. UH.

(these use a timeline of two years of splatoon 1 from the launch of the game till the start of splatoon 2, and two years from the start of splatoon 2 till the ‘end’ at the final fest!)

a lot of people hc emperor and prince are related to pearl but I ALSO hc that pearl was actually the leader of the team until she dropped out to pursue music more, left emperor in charge, and prince took her place as the fourth member of the team. they had a move similar to emperor’s road, but it involved the team rushing to the middle and spreading out/painting in a spiral pattern. I don’t have a name for it yet, maybe pearl’s world? not sure. emperor was actually at the safer/easier back position for a while, because he was babyyyyy

ranks, weapons and modes were only standardised at the start of splatoon 1, so some of the older characters would have played before then and had custom weapons. weapons were therefore much harder to acquire as you’d be limited to what was available locally (with less weapon brands being around), most were made to order, and short range shooters were considerably more popular due to being easy to use, flexible to different situations (it was rare for people to own more than one or two weapons, so you had to be able to use your weapon in lots of different types of tournaments) and easy to manufacture, so there were more of them available. obviously pearl would have been turfing back then, but I also hc the entirety of the skull/vintage/aviators/omega team had custom weapons and were a team back then and part of the reason behind their breakup was the standardisation of ink sports (there were other motives too, but this played a part in it)

the S4, at time of creation (which was about 8 months into splatoon 1, with coroika starting one year into splatoon 1), were not necessarily the BEST players at the time, but some of the most iconic. skull being such a proficient sniper at his age was unusual due to the culture around custom weapons mentioned in the last hc (with the skull/vintage/aviators/omega team actually being formed over them all playing unusual or difficult classes of weapon, a 14-16 year old sniper was VERY strange), aloha is a basic high school jock success story but MUCH quicker, mask is actually somewhat at the front of a movement that’s basically turf war emo, called alternaturf, and army is ridiculously knowledgeable of strategies and match ups for someone of his age. When the S4 formed, skull was almost 17, mask had just turned 16, aloha was 15, and army was still 14 (army actually still being too young to play when splatoon 1 started)

wow that got long

[techtomorrowland]

A Hello

First off, I had war flashbacks during the entire creation process of this account. Tumblr is a nebulous corner of the internet, one that I wanted to leave behind with every other mortifying thing I did as a teenager.

Yet here we are.

This time there will be no fandom-posting or anon ask games. No, I’m an adult doing serious work now here on tumblr dot com.

This blog, made specifically for a communications course on the future of media, exists in irony. I know my professor knows what he’s doing when he makes “create and maintain a tumblr blog for the semester” an assignment. I believe he thinks this is funny. I also agree with him if he does.

Enough. My name is Sarah, I’m 23, and I am a Master’s student in the Newhouse School at Syracuse University (newhouse.syr.edu, for those inclined). There are precautionary tales warning people of plainly sharing the information I just gave on the internet. It seems everyone is scared of what might happen online, the dangers of internet’s many unknowns. My most formative years have been spent online. I’m not scared of the people on the internet. I’m scared of the corporations that increasingly gain more control of our habits and information, and then exploiting us for a profit. It’s not a complete unknown. Corporations show us jargon-filled warnings openly saying that they’ll be tracking our online moves and using that data for their own reasons. This is a completely different can of worms.

No professor wants to hear that a student is taking their class to fulfill some sort of degree requirement set by the university. My professor (hello specifically to you, Sean, if you’re reading this) is lucky. I’m not taking this class to fulfill a degree requirement. I’m in this class because the school would not let me take the online social media night class that I wanted to take.  I love media, I think it’s fascinating, I want to see what happens next. Hearing stories about the early days of the internet is so exciting for me. Technology is so vast and manifests itself in an incredible number of ways, to the point that it is almost unimaginable to me what is in store for the future of tech. I’m hoping this class helps me to actualize where we’re heading in the fields of media and technology. I hope that it gives me a foundation that allows me to stay well-involved in these fields as they progress. And, as always, I’m hoping for some new networking opportunities.

I’m from Tennessee, I did my undergraduate studies at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville where I majored in journalism and electronic media and minored in Arab studies. For awhile I was certain I wanted to go into international journalism and report abroad or on foreign news. I even studied abroad in the Czech Republic and took a course specifically on how to be a foreign correspondent. I connected with journalists at the Reuters bureau in Prague, as well as journalists from the BBC, CNN, and Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty. Back in the states, I was a producer, writer, editor, etc for several campus television shows. It was fun and our equipment was so out of date. I put lower-thirds in our shows in real-time using a Chyron machine. Spending any time in the digital news center studio at Newhouse is streets ahead of what we had at UTK, and what most real newsrooms have. In the spring of 2020, I interned for Knoxville’s number one television station, WBIR Channel 10 News. It was a blast. And then the pandemic happened, which shifted my internship into a completely remote workflow. I went from jumping in station cars with reporters to check out a quarry blast to sitting in my parent’s house and writing the latest COVID-19 updates. I then graduated college via a slideshow set up on my laptop in my parent’s living room. It’s definitely a period of time that won’t be forgotten. Not long after graduation, I made the decision to move 800 miles away, in the middle of a pandemic, to start grad school. This was not a “oh no this global disaster has made it so that I don’t know what I want to do with my life,” situation. I had known since my first day of undergrad that I wanted to go to graduate school. I had done campus tours and gotten into every grad program I applied to, albeit moments before the pandemic’s onset. Going to grad school was part of my plans, whether a virus was around or not. I’m someone who sets longterm goals and works hard to stick to them. That’s why I’m here now. 

Throughout all of that, content creation was at the back of my mind. I love to edit video and create graphic designs and curate a social media presence. Because of those passions, my musician friends have designated me as their brand manager and let me handle their social media, promotions, and shows. I want to focus on social media and how it’s changing. I think it has a lot of power, but I also think that there are more advanced forms of social media coming. 

This is much longer than what was assigned, but I do like to talk. I’m looking forward to learning and predicting parts of the media future.

[farfromtommy]

my sun and stars // dad!Tony Stark x daughter!reader

A/N: so I had originally written the beginning of this for nice to meet you but then I decided that it needed to be its own fic and omg did it happen. I cried basically the whole time. I hope you guys like it as much as I do. dad!Tony makes me soft. please let me know what you think!!!!

My requests are open! 

summary: Tony being the world’s best dad 

Warning: like 2 swear words, overwhelming fluff 

Word count: 2,918

masterlist 

Tony Stark had made his fair share of mistakes in his life. He’s human. But the one thing he knew he always did right was raising his daughter, Y/N. She was the light of his life. She made his life worth living. Y/N came into Tony’s life at a seemingly perfect time. Her presence in his home pulled him out of his “playboy” ways and into his new role as a dad. 

Her mother, knowing the lifestyle of Tony, decided that she didn’t want to be connected to him in anyway. Giving up her daughter was the hardest thing she had ever had to do in her life, but it was best thing she could’ve done for everyone involved. She even left giving her a name up to Tony, knowing very well if she gave her a name it would make it that much harder to give her to her dad. 

When Tony first saw himself in this tiny human, his entire life changed. A switched was flipped inside him and he was taking fatherhood by the horns and “making it his bitch”, as he confidently stated to Happy. He looked at everything her mother had left in a folder. Her birth certificate only had one name on it, and it was his. She didn’t have an identity. Her mother had refused to put her name on the certificate, cutting every tie to her newborn possible. 

Tony looked back at Y/N as she was staring back at him with her big beautiful eyes. She looked at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world, and he looked at her the same way.  He intended to keep that look on her face for as long as he could. Because at that moment in time, Tony knew that his world no longer revolved around himself. She was his sun.  

Tony had his very first taste of parenthood just a few short minutes after meeting Y/N. She had completely soiled her diaper and the onesie she was wearing. He had never once changed a diaper. Luckily, Y/N’s mother had left a few diapers in a bag for Tony so he wasn’t completely screwed. After a couple of failed attempts and minutes of his daughter screeching, she was all cleaned up and fast asleep in his arms. 

As he was holding her, he was ordering every single thing necessary for a baby. After some time online shopping and a couple thousand dollars later, he had everything he could possibly need and more. The one thing he was most excited about was the baby sling. He would put it on himself so he could carry Y/N hands free. He could already see her sleeping peacefully on his chest while he is whirring around creating his next big invention. 

Everything had been delivered and was on its way to being set up. Tony had set Happy our for bottles and formula while he was busy shopping for baby clothes and accessories. By the time Happy returned and helped Tony feed and get Y/N back to sleep, they were setting up all of the new furniture in Tony’s extravagant master bedroom. 

He had her crib against the wall right next to his bed, the rocking chair tucked in the corner, and the changing table that doubled as a dresser pushed against the wall next to her crib. He had a new rug across the floor by the entire baby section of his room. 

The juxtaposition of his things and Y/N’s things was truly a sight to see. 

He had boxes littered across his room. Some filled with clothes, some filled with diapers and wipes. As he was putting some of her clothes in the dresser, he heard her start to whimper from her crib. 

He finished folding the onesie he had in his hands and walked over to the crib. She then started to cry and he quickly picked her up and started soothing her to try and get her to calm down. He looked over at his clocked and it read 12:43 am. 

“I bet you’re hungry my little love, let’s go get you some food.” he quietly said to her and continued to soothe her as they went to the kitchen together. He made a bottle for her and as soon as it was ready he gave it to her and she immediately took to it. He walked back into his room and sat on the rocking chair as she quickly finished her bottle. 

He brought her up to his shoulders to burp her and pat her back softly. He had been reading parenting blogs and forums while she was sleeping so he could try and figure out everything he needed to do as a new parent. 

He was so overwhelmed with all this new information flooding into his brain, he thought it would explode. He was the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company and was Iron Man, surely he could figure this parenting thing out. 

One of the things he had read about was skin to skin contact. It was usually done between mother and child during breastfeeding, but fathers also did it to create a bond with their child. Tony carefully stood up and placed Y/N on the changing table to take her white onesie off. He lifted his own shirt off and tossed it haphazardly on the floor. He picked Y/N up again and made his way back to the rocking chair. 

He put his legs up on the ottoman and leaned back, bringing Y/N’s head up to where his heart is and let her lay on his chest. Her tiny fingers grazed the metal of the arc reactor placed in the middle of his chest and he just watched every move she made. His big hands holding her body so she wouldn’t slip off brought so much comfort to the both of them. 

Eventually both Tony and Y/N fell asleep in that position. Both of them exhausted from the long day they had. A couple hours later Tony was woken up by Y/N stirring on his chest. He woke up slowly and looked at the clock again. 3:12 am. Y/N was hungry again and by the smell of it, desperately needed a diaper change. He changed her diaper quickly and once again, grabbed another bottle for her. Although he was tired and wanted to sleep for an eternity. He was the only person able to do this for her. 

He was her person. 

And she was surely enough becoming his. 

He was taking to this dad thing really well. He never knew he could love a tiny human as much as he loved Y/N. She was everything to him. 

Weeks had gone by and Tony and Y/N were absolutely inseparable. Tony had taken time off of work to adjust to his new life as a father and to have this time to really bond with Y/N. They had finally gotten a schedule down that worked for them. Tony took time to work a little bit while she was asleep so his company didn’t completely fall apart. But as soon as he saw her start to wake up through the baby monitor he had made, he stopped everything and rushed to her side. 

Tony was strongly considering taking his technology to the baby market, because he was absolutely killing it with his new creations for Y/N. Somehow he was able to make things just a little bit easier for him. He had even considered creating a robot nanny but figured that probably wouldn’t end well. 

At 11 months old Y/N was completely killing it at the baby game. She was starting to let go of things as she was starting to walk, she had said her first word, which was obviously ‘dada’, and with everything she did she made her dad proud beyond words. 

Tony couldn’t believe it’s been almost a whole year since Y/N came into his life and he would cry if he thought about it too long. After a few months of working from home Tony had returned to work full time. He did not want to leave Y/N with a nanny, he didn’t trust anyone with his precious daughter. Before he returned to work he had created a space in his office dedicated to Y/N. 

He had a play pen which doubled as crib and dozens of toys and books for her to entertain herself with as her dad worked. The system he had made for taking care of his daughter while also running Stark Industries was one that was hard to perfect, but once he did, it was like clockwork. 

Y/N had taken to his assistant, Pepper, really well. She was there for Y/N when Tony wasn’t available at that exact moment in time. Pepper would often interrupt Tony’s meetings, much to the dismay of the executives in the room with him. She would give her off to Tony and the cries of the toddler would immediately subside, as she was in the arms of her person. Tony would continue the meeting on with Y/N attached to him. Her tiny arms wrapped around his neck and one of his arms supporting her, and the other gesturing towards whatever he was talking about. 

Sometimes he would even bring the baby carrier in and would have you strapped to his chest as he was working so his mobility wasn’t affected. It was such a normal thing to see Tony walking around the building with his daughter strapped to his chest, people stopped staring in confusion and just kept going with their day. 

Celebrating the 1st birthday of his daughter was maybe one of the most bittersweet days of Tony’s life. He loved being able to raise such an amazing human being, but hated seeing her grow up before his own eyes. She had changed so much in the year she had been on this earth. Tony had thrown the most extravagant 1 year olds birthday planet in the history of time. 

Tony smiled the most amazing smile as he heard everyone sing happy birthday to his daughter, and he held her as they both blew out the candles to her cake. Y/N had absolutely no idea what was happening but the noise and excitement just made her bubble. Tony helped Y/N destroy her piece of cake as she was mostly getting it all over her face and body. 

He looked at her fondly as she continued to smear frosting all over herself. Tony wanting the time with his baby back. He missed being able to hold her in the crook of his arm while she ate. She had such an amazing future ahead of her and he was ready for the ride. 

Y/N started school at the age of 4, going on 5.  Tony had decided to put her into public school to give her the best shot at a normal life. She was already so ahead of her grade level and was surpassing the learning expectations of a 4 year old. Dropping her off at school every morning broke his heart so much. But he loved seeing her face light up every time she saw one of her friends on her way to class. 

He always dropped her off at the door of her classroom and gave her a hug and kiss before he left for work. He was there every day to pick her up so she could tell him all about her day before she forgot what happened. She always went on and on about the things she did with her best friend Peter (:D) did in class. She talked about what she learned about and the books she read. He loved hearing about her day, it was one of the greatest parts of his day. 

They drove back to Tony’s office and walked through the doors hand in hand. Y/N greeted everyone she saw, knowing most of their names. She always ran up to Pepper and wrapped her tiny arms around her neck as Pepper bent down to give her a hug. Tony always took time to help Y/N with her homework when they got back. 

After they finished whatever homework she had for the day, Tony went back to work and Y/N stayed in his office in the corner dedicated to her. She had a tiny table and a chair so she could sit and draw or color, a bookshelf with tons of books that she loved to read, and anything else that could entertain a 4 year old for a few hours. 

“It’s time to go home little love. Go grab all your things and say goodbye to Pepper.” Tony said to Y/N walking into his office. “Okay daddy.” Y/N said grabbing her backpack from the floor and racing out the door to say bye to Pepper. Tony grabbed everything he needed and walked out of his office to get Y/N from Pepper’s desk. 

This time Tony carried Y/N out of the building as she said she was too tired to walk and wanted her dad to carry her out. Tony could never say no to her. They walked out to Tony’s car and he buckled her into her car seat as she was slowly falling asleep. 

Tony had felt a presence come up behind him and he was quick to react by secretly putting on his Iron Man blasters, ready to fight off whoever was trying to sneak up on him. He quickly turned around shutting the door, shielding his daughter from whatever was going to happen. 

He was met with the face of Nick Fury. “I’m not gonna hurt you Tony, or your daughter. Just wanted to have a chat with you.” Fury said, walking closer to Tony. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.” Tony shut down his blasters and walked around to the drivers side. He opened his side and got in. Starting the engine and wanting to drive away. Fury knocked on the window of his car, Tony rolled his eyes and opened the window. 

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re trying to talk me into.” Tony repeated himself. 

“I just want to talk to you about an idea I have. It’s called the Avenger initiative Take a look.” Fury tossed a file down on the passenger seat of Tony’s car. He sighed and grabbed the file and flipped through it. 

“Looks like you got it all figured out. What do you need me for?” He said handing the file back to Fury.

 “I want you to take control of it, need be. You have the capability to and I don’t know anyone else who is better equipped to take point on this. Just think about it and get back to me.” Fury tapped on the top of the car and walked away. 

Tony sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked back at his sleeping daughter in the backseat, completely unaware of what just happened. A small smile came to his face as he continued to look at her. He knew what Fury wanted him to do wasn’t easy and could put him in harms way. But if it was something he needed to do to keep you safe from everything that would want to hurt you, he would do it. He has promised you from day 1 that he would do everything in his power to make sure you were always safe. He wanted to make the world perfect for his sweet angel, and didn’t know where to start. 

This seemed like a place to start, and it fell right into his seat. He got out of his car and looked towards the direction Fury walked in and yelled out to him. 

“I’m in, Fury. Send me everything you have on this and I’ll take a look.” He shouted. 

Fury turned around and shot him a thumbs up and turned back around, walking towards his car. 

“I have one condition, though.” Tony shouted. Fury stopped walking and turned around slowly. 

“And what might that be?” He questioned. 

“If I’m gonna work with you on this, you keep her out of every record you have on me. I don’t want her in any database. It’s like she doesn’t exist to S.H.I.E.L.D. If anyone asks about her, you don’t know. No one knows. That is my only condition.” He said, looking at Y/N sleeping through the window. 

Fury nodded at him and got into his car. Tony did the same and started his drive back home. 

For the past 10 years Y/N and Tony have been working side by side. A few years after Fury approached Tony about the Avenger Initiative, it was activated and was in full swing. Everyone involved have had their fair share of battles the past few years. 

Now at the age of 15, Y/N works with her dad developing new and improved technology for the whole team. She was probably the smartest 15 year old on the planet. Tony had built the Avengers compound in upstate New York, where you both lived along side the Avengers. 

Everyone there quickly became like family and Y/N absolutely loved it. Her entire life had been just her and Tony in his big mansion, even with the frequent visits from Pepper and Happy, it still got lonely. 

Now with a team of superheroes in her living room, there was never a chance to be lonely. 

[planesofduality]

The Story Behind Solas with Dragon Age Lead Writer Patrick Weekes - Dialogue Wheel (Part 3 of 3)

The final piece of the interview!

Here is Part 1, Part 2

Time: 25:35

One of the most beautiful scenes I think in Dragon Age Inquisition is the scene that you get with Solas if you play as a female elf Inquisitor. Talk a little bit about that choice to have this romance option very, very specific. It’s race- and gender- specific. Why that scene - what that scene meant and a lot of the subtext, because it is a very rich sequence of scenes, not just one. And, I think it’s really one of the most interesting romances in the game.

I love that scene because that scene for me shows how far we’ve gone past - not the make myself irrelevant anymore - but how far we’ve gone with the digital acting. Jonathan Epp the cine-designer for that scene put it together and when you take everything that Gareth David Lloyd - the voice actor - everything he did on his lines. And just putting so much tragedy, and making it clear in every line that he wants to say more than he can. And with Jon Epp the cine-designer, just in the wordless scenes: showing the tragedy, showing the heartbreak, showing how much he does genuinely care against his better judgement, and how he finally forces himself to step away.,

You know how I said when we were talking about the Iron Bull - everything, every major moment we do, is there for a specific type of player fantasy fulfillment. And you know, not all types of fantasies are the happy ones. There’s a reason why The Phantom of the Opera was on Broadway for so many years and it’s not because it has a happy ending.

The Phantom of the Opera isn’t exactly the theme for the romance -  the razor was something closer to almost professor and student in some ways. He definitely comes across as a mentor in some ways. When he finally steps back it is him beating himself up, not you, saying “Wow what I have done here is actually really unfair to you, and you, player, at the time don’t know that I’m beating myself up because I’m actually  1000s of years old and not the person you think I am and it’s disrespectful to you for me to continue this relationship.” So it’s a very moral perspective for our ancient, quasi-evil, trickster god to come with.

Time: 28:41

And it’s amazing because it’s another instance of content that so few players would actually get an opportunity to see. When it comes to making it that specific, I guess, why was that choice made? Because usually a lot of your content - most of the Dragon Age content - it’s very easy to get really rich, wonderful characters right in your face and have those wonderful “eat-em-up” experiences, why for this one was it such a steep price to get in?

You know, I won’t lie, a lot of it came from some of our designers. Some of the women in the design department really, really loving his voice and saying, “You are absolutely fools if you do not make him romance-able in some capacity.” And, really, his story overall is - and, you know, I think we’ve only hinted at that but I think we have hinted at it enough that I can at least say this part of it - his story isn’t a happy one. His story is one, where, if you look at him and Mythal, there is clearly some grief, there is clearly some tragedy. And, adding in the option - even for players who don’t take it - on my end as a writer,  knowing that some players will have this as a star-crossed, forbidden romance, you know, it makes him more sympathetic. It’s important to me as a writer because when you’re writing about someone who, according to Flemeth, is at least somewhat responsible for the bad guy getting the magical item that he used to blow up half a mountain in the prologue, it’s important to have something in there that you can always have, as a writer, look at as your touchstone and go “This is a real person. This is someone who experiences sadness. This is someone who falls in love.” Even if he doesn’t do it with that Inquisitor on that playthrough, this is always someone who can be like that.

Time: 30:58

Where do you see a character like Solas ending up?

(Big sigh) Musical theater.

(laughs) Right when we reach those beautiful moments, Patrick!

I think that it is fantastic that people have emotionally engaged with Solas and I hope we get a chance to explore that in some future content.

Alright and that’s the most that we’re getting right now.

Time: 31:37

Oh, and here’s a little tie in: Here Lies the Abyss, the demon that spoke to Solas - what was all that about, what was that going on?

Oh yes - the demon who speaks perfect Elven!

Yes perfectly to him, and if you remember any of that - did you have anything to do with that?

Yes, Here Lies the Abyss was mine. It was a fun plot. It was a terrifyingly difficult plot, because - I’m not sure how clear this is to players that have one done one playthrough or with one import state - but your key characters throughout the events at Adamant Fortress and then the events of the Fade, it’s a customizable Hawke. Which means it could be a male Hawke or a female Hawke and within that, Hawke from Dragon Age 2 is characterized by one of three different attitudes: friendly, grim, or sarcastic. So, that’s three attitudes times two genders, that’s six different Hawkes and three different possible Grey Wardens: Alistair, Loghain, or Stroud.  So, the process of going through Adamant Fortress and then going through the Fade was a crazy juggling act of trying to keep track of “Okay, now one of these five people, these five Schrodinger’s cat quantum people, will say this line, and then another of these five Schrodinger’s cat quantum people will respond with this line.”

It’s important to remember that as we went through everything in Adamant Fortress and the Fade was taking place in that contest. There was a long period time when we were looking at that really going, “Okay, I just have to hope this actually makes sense when it’s nothing but Alistair and my sarcastic female Hawke.”

But, to actually answer your question. As I recall, the Nightmare, who as a friendly, chipper guy was basically - I do basically two types of villains: I do the villain who thinks he or she is the hero, and is misguided and has opposed goals, and is kind of tragic and tortured in that way. And then I do the mean-girl villain who says snotty high school insults.

That’s it - that’s the gambit.

Well, just about, yes. I’m looking forward to see who writes the villain in the future Dragon Age games - so get ready for either tragic pathos or really, really good high school mean-girl zingers.

As I recall, he was speaking Elven to Solas and if I remember right, he said, “Your pride is responsible for everything that has gone wrong” and I think he said “You will die alone.” And then Solas said something that translates to either “Nothing is known for certain” or “Not necessarily.”

And what does all that mean?

Well I think it’s fascinating that people are emotionally engaged, and I hope we have the chance -

It was a very asked question - it was a question that was asked a lot. Specific to that.

Oh, I’m not surprised, and I hope one day that we can tell you. But, obviously, that demon knows that Solas is hurting and Solas feels guilty about some stuff and really wanted to dig in there, and Solas was shouting back.

Literally just describing what happened (laughs). All right, so something that will clearly be talked about in other games.

TIme: 36:22

Dealing with this particular quest I really think that this was one opportunity to involve the Grey Wardens in a story, and a world, that kind of progressingly, after the first game had less and less of a need to exist - let alone in the world - but in the main characters arc. Talking to David I remember initially there was some idea for this particular mission they would just fall into the hole and be hanging out in the Deep Roads, and having out with the dwarves, so tell us a little bit about this creation.

A lot of the process of writing these large plots, like I talked about the razor, you figure out what the core concept is, you always start with a lot of things, and in most cases what you then end up having to do is cut. And if you’re not someone in the studio, talking about having to cut things sounds like you’re losing awesome content, you’re ruining what would have been clearly the best part of the plot. Inside the studio though, most cases what you’re cutting is the stuff that didn’t actually help tell the story you wanted to tell.

So yes in the original version, in a very early draft, actually this was before I was actually on the plot - this predates me - there was, yes, going into the Deep Roads, and when you fell in instead of ending up in the Fade you ended up down in the dark. And finding out what the Grey Wardens in this version of the story had been involved with the Architect from Dragon Age: Awakening. It was an interesting direction, and it was, I think, a very cool direction, but it did not help tell the story of the Inquisition. It was more a story of “Hey, if we wanted to do more with the Hero of Fereldan, here is an interesting place we could go” and it did not help tell the story of “What is the Inquisition doing?” “What is Corypheus doing?”, “How do these two organizations bounce off each other and who’s caught in the middle?” So trying to come to terms with the Grey Wardens in this game not being the protagonists, not being the group that is in the center of the action but being the group that is caught in the middle of this power struggle was something that led to us having to eventually do the re-jiggering that got us to the plot you saw.